Midnight In New York
by cristinaN
Summary: There is no such thing as freedom. Marie: I'm a killer, a criminal, no better than Edward or Carlisle or even Esme. I should feel bad for what I have done. I should mourn for the lives I have taken and probably turn myself in, pay for my crimes. But I felt none of that, I felt nothing in fact. It was them or us, there was no other choice and I made the right choice. I chose him.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Edited by Sjdavis84 and StillDreaming85.**

 **Banner by StillDreaming85.**

 **Warning: This story contains mention of rape,graphic violence and mention of human trafficking.**

 **This is the sequel to Danger In New York. If you have not read DINY, I recommend doing that first.**

 **Ragusa, Sicilia, Italia.**

 **MARIE CULLEN (ISABELLA.)**

No, this wasn't real. He could not be here. I wasn't prepared for this. I wasn't ready to see him again, to stand this close to him again.

No matter how many times I opened and closed my eyes, he was still standing right there, right in front of me, staring intensely, making me uncomfortable with how vulnerable and desperate he looked right now. It was a look that didn't suit him, the look of a desperate man.

I had so many questions I wanted to ask him. There were so many things I wanted to say, but nothing came out of my mouth, nothing but silent shock.

"Dolcezza, say something, please," he said, his fingers still lingering there on my cheek. His simple touch made both my mind and body fuzzy.

Right now I didn't know what to do or what to say, so I did the only thing I could think of, I ran. I ran away from him and towards the two men who have been keeping track of me over the past years. They breathed a sigh of relief when I came running towards them. I cannot begin to imagine the threat Carlisle had put on them to watch over me. Still, I wondered why they hadn't approached Edward? Why they had let him get close to me?

"Stai bene?" One of them asked. This was the first time in three years that we had even spoken to each other.

"Sì," I said, climbing into the back of the car letting them drive me away from there, taking me back home and away from him.

I glanced out the window at him as the car pulled out. He was hurt and angry, that was evident. There was something about him though, now that there was distance between us I could see it more clearly. He was almost unrecognizable. It was as if he was the same person, and yet he wasn't. He was different, in our few minutes together, I noticed that. He was more gentle yet a million degrees colder at the same time.

This wasn't fair. Carlisle and Esme had promised me that Edward would never know where I was located. They promised me that I would never have to see him again, or go back, not until I was ready, not unless I wanted to.

I didn't want this, not now.

I didn't want to see him, not yet.

For three years I had pushed my feelings aside. Yes, I had thought about him. I wondered what he was doing and if he was okay. But I wasn't ready for this yet. It wasn't fair, it was cruel for him to take that decision away from me.

 _ **~MINY~**_

It had been hours. I could hear them downstairs. Carlisle and Esme were both here when I arrived back. I walked straight past them and had locked myself in my room. I had nothing to say to either of them. They had lied to me, they had made me a promise and they had failed. I heard the car outside shortly after I locked my door. I watched him out the window as he stormed towards the house. I knew he would follow us, I knew he would come for me.

They had been downstairs for hours now. I can hear them yelling at one another and I cannot take it anymore. Their voices were so loud and all together, it was near impossible to make out a clear sentence from any of them.

I opened my door and tiptoed out into the hall, sitting on the top step. No one would see me up here.

"Get out of my way, padre," Edward yelled, his loud voice echoing up the stairs.

"No," Carlisle said in his usual calm tone.

"I am not asking you as a son, I am telling you as your don, move out of my way."

"Calm down," his father said.

"I am calm," Edward continued to yell.

"No, you are not."

"Three years. Three fucking years I have let you get away with this," Edward said. "You kept my own wife away from me and for what? What have you accomplished, what?"

"Edward, your father did what was right," Esme said.

"Eavesdropping?" Carmen whispered, sitting down beside me.

"I guess," I shrugged. "What are you doing up here?"

"Do you know how many men are down there in my living room trying to stop your husband from coming up here? They are all very uncomfortable, it is not pleasant to see," she said, as she straightened out her skirt.

"Why are they uncomfortable?" I asked.

"I know you know what it is they do, who our family is." Carmen smiled. "My brother was their Don and now Edward is. They are loyal to my brother, to our family. Carlisle has ordered those men to stop Edward from coming to you at any cost. Those poor men, they are in a bit of, how do you say, predicament, si."

"Why is he here?" Why? Why bother? Why show up after three years?

"That is a silly question, Marie." She chuckled.

"All of you have avoided talking about him, every time I asked, you pretended as if I had said nothing," I said.

"We thought it would be best for you. My brother sent you to me to help you rebuild your life, to forget about your past and that included my nipote."

Many times I had wondered why Carlisle had chosen to help me. It seemed like he had only created more problems with his family by sending me here and keeping me alive.

Why didn't he kill me? What did he get out of helping me? Out of all the girls, the women, that had been trafficked through him, why help me? What made me different? I was a traitor's daughter, the daughter of the man that helped take him down. Carlisle had spent eighteen months in a federal prison because of him, and he was supposed to spend another thirteen years. Was it because his son had decided to make me his wife? Did he consider me family because of it?

No, I couldn't accept that. There had to be more to it than that.

"Carmen, did he know all this time where I was?" I asked.

"I do not believe so. If he did know, he would have been here a lot sooner. My nipote, he loves you very much," she said.

"He doesn't love me, Carmen. He doesn't know the real me to love me," I laughed.

"You are very wrong, cara. My nipoti, Anthony was always from a small baby, he was wild, a little reckless and...cold. But Edward, he was calm and patient, and he always took care of the things and the people he holds dear. When he is passionate about something, someone, when he loves that person, he fights for them at every turn, no matter the cost," Carmen said, as she moved a stray piece of hair out of my eyes. "For three years, my nipote has fought my brother at every turn."

"Why?" I asked. Why would Edward fight his father?

"Because of you, Marie. Because my brother stole his son's wife and kept her away from him. I think the only thing that stopped Edward from killing his father, he knew he would not find you without him and Esme would never tell him where you were without my brother's permission."

That didn't mean Edward loved me. He couldn't. The thought alone made me nauseous, it made my stomach jump back and forth. Love? What did Edward know of love? Was he even capable of such an emotion or was he only continuing on with the game?

"Carmen…" My words were lost when the sound of one precise gunshot rang out followed by an echoing thud.

Without giving it any thought, I jumped to my feet and ran down the stairs with Carmen hot on my trail.

As we reached the bottom of the stairs, ten pairs of eyes turned towards us.

Ten men staring at us along with Esme, but my eyes were glued to the eleventh man laying on the floor. The blood oozing out of his head and onto Carmen's pristine rug.

"Cazzo, mio tappeto," Carmen cursed from behind me. She pushed her way around to get a closer look and inspect the damage done to her rug. "Nipote, idiota."

"I'll make sure you will have another rug delivered tomorrow," Edward said, although he never took his eyes off of me. The gun in his hand lowered, but he did not put it away.

"Move him off of my tappeto," Carmen said, motioning for the men to move the dead body off of her rug. Of course, it was just like Carmen to be more concerned with her rug rather than the dead body in her living room. But these people had to have seen more dead bodies in their lives than I have fingers on my hands. This was probably nothing. This was probably just another day to them.

"Dolcezza," Edward said. He took one step towards me and I took one back, bumping into Carlisle's chest. He wrapped his arm around me, holding me against him, trying to get me away from his son, but his son looked like a madman on a mission.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. He should not be here," Carlisle said.

"Isabella, please," Edward pleaded. His eyes softened almost on the verge of tears. It appeared as if it was taking everything in him to fight them back.

But something inside of me snapped at this one moment. That name, it had been a very long time since anyone had called me Isab...That. I had put that person behind me, she was dead.

I closed my eyes, willing myself not to let it happen, but I was too weak. With one word, with one name, he had opened the floodgates of memories. Everything came flooding back, things that I never wanted to see again, voices I didn't want to hear, everything that I had worked so hard to keep locked away, now came rushing out, with one name.

"I am not Isabella," I yelled. "She's dead. You killed her."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Edited by Sjdavis84 and StillDreaming85.**_

 _ **Ragusa, Sicilia, Italia.**_

 _ **EDWARD CULLEN.**_

There are moments in life that you will never be prepared for. For three years I have looked everywhere for her. I have had my best people trying to track her down, but not even the best were good enough. My father, he had made her disappear. It was as if she had vanished off the face of the earth. There was no trace of an Isabella or a Marie anywhere. Garrett was of no help, I could not have him beaten enough to get him to talk. He always said the same thing time and time again, he didn't know where she was, my father hadn't told him. After a few months, I believed him. No man allied or enemy would take that sort of punishment and not talk.

I hated what I had become, but my father, he loved it, he took great joy in knowing that I had become a...a monster. The beast in me surfaced the day she had left. I was hurt that she had chosen to leave me. I had tried with everything in me. I had tried to make things better for her, to make her better, but it was difficult when she wouldn't allow me to help. She may not have realized it at the time, but she had made a deal with a devil she didn't know. My father wasn't a man to do anything or help anyone for free. He always had a price and that price was always very high. When the time came, when he wanted to collect, he would make Isabella pay for his help.

After three years of looking, I will admit, I was very close to giving up hope. It was by sheer luck that I had found her now.

A package that arrived for my father at the office ahead of schedule. Normally I would have sent someone else to deliver it to him, or I would have told him to come and collect it himself. I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped by the house unannounced with his package. When I arrived that night, it was late. Everyone was no doubt asleep or in bed so I let myself in.

The first thing that caught my attention were the suitcases by the door. They were leaving again. I don't know if there was a corner of the globe that they had left untouched these past few years. I don't know what was left for them to see.

I had tried to have them followed many times to see if perhaps, somehow they might lead me to my wife, but my father, he was a smart man. One could not fool Carlisle Cullen that easily.

His office door was slightly ajar. I could hear him and my mother talking. If he was paying attention to the security monitors, he would know that I had entered the house and that I was standing outside his office door right now. But by the sound of it, they were having a heated argument and his attention was elsewhere.

"We need to tell him. Look at what he has become, Carlisle. Is this what you wanted from your son?" My mother said.

"I did this for you, because this is what you wanted, and now you want me to bring her back?" My father said.

"I didn't think things would turn out the way they have. I didn't think it would affect him this much. This was best for her, but not for our son."

"Our son has other responsibilities to keep his mind preoccupied."

"It is not just him, Carlisle. Carmen and Eleazar say she always asks them about him. Don't pretend like you do not care about her. Maybe she wants to come back."

"No," my father said.

I slowly backed away from the door. I dropped his package on the table by the front door and left. Getting in my car, I drove straight to the airport and got onto the first flight out to Sicily.

Too many things were running through my head at that time. I was angry, angry that I had not figured it out sooner, angry that my father had managed to outsmart me, angry that all of this time she was so close within reach of me and yet so far away.

My body hummed in anticipation of seeing her again. I waited for what felt like hours, days, outside the dance studio she was in. I froze when I saw come out with a small child in her arms, a little girl. I studied them, both of them from my spot, I was close enough and yet still far away.

I watched her as she held the small child on her hip. The little girl said something to make her laugh. It was beautiful yet terrible to watch. Is this why she left? Did she think keeping my child from me would be a good idea? I was angry at the thought, my hands balled up into fists by my side at the thought that all this time she had kept this from me, that my father had kept this from me. But, it was an anger I could not hold on to. As I did the quick mental math I realized that child, it could not be mine or hers. The little girl looked older, four, maybe five. If Isabella had been pregnant, our child would be no older than two right now.

I breathed a sigh of relief with that realization, and yet it made me sad that we didn't have that.

I took in every part of her from head to toe. She was exactly the same as I remembered her, yet there was something different about her, something I couldn't put my finger on. She was shocked to see me, that was evident, but I didn't expect her to run from me. She climbed into the car with the two men that my father had watching over her. She left me standing in the middle of the street, no matter what, I never expected her to run away from me, more so for my father to keep me away from her now.

 _ **~MINY~**_

"Edward you need to leave her alone," my zia Carmen said.

"And you need to mind your own business," I snapped at her.

There was something about my father's bastard sister that I never liked. From very early on as a small child there had always been something warning me about her. The woman has never done a thing wrong in her life, she has been loyal to my father, both her and her husband have been loyal to the family, still there was something there something about her that was...Off, bitter even.

"She is happy here," zia Carmen said.

"How the hell did you find out where she was?" My father asked.

"You told me yourself," I said. "Enough is enough. We have played this game for too long now. She is my wife and I will not let you keep her from me any longer."

"Edward, please, you know why we had to do what we did," my mother said.

"No, no I don't. She was fine with me, I had kept her safe."

"You kept her a prisoner," my mother yelled, standing up in my face. "You and Anth...Your brother, God rest his soul, had no right to take her, to do the things you did to her."

"I didn't do anything to her," I yelled right back at her, defending myself.

"You let it happen, Edward. You knew and you did nothing. She was a child that you let be used in a twisted game of revenge. If you loved her half as much as you claim to, you would have let her go a long time ago, you sure as hell would not have forced her into a marriage."

"I made the only decision that was best at the time. If I could have let her go, I would have, but you know damn well that wasn't an option," I said. I had done so many things where Isabella was involved. If I could turn back time and take it all back I would, but the only thing I can do is try to make things better now and hope that somehow it will all work out, that we will work out.

"There was always an option, Edward. You just chose the one that suited you more," my mother said.

"You two lied to me for three years," I said, pointing between the two of them. "Don't try and turn this around on me now. Dad should have never gotten involved. The two of you are nothing but pathetic thinking all of this was for the best," I said, storming out of the room.

"Where are you going?" My father called after me.

"Don't you dare follow me."

I was surprised to find her bedroom door unlocked, but grateful nonetheless.

She was tucked up in bed with the covers pulled up over her face.

I took my jacket off and let it fall on the floor. I took my belt, shoes and socks off before pulling the covers back and climbing in beside her trying to make as little movement as possible as not to wake her up.

The lamps outside provided a soft glow through the room. Her tear stained face broke my heart, knowing that somehow I was the cause of it. I wanted to make things better and I hoped she would let me. But that would be something to worry about later. Right now, I scooted my body as close to hers as I could get. Right now with her here in this very moment, I felt something I haven't felt in a long time, peace, calmness...Love.

I didn't want to fall asleep, not yet. What if this was all a dream, a cruel joke, I would blink and she would be gone.

But my eyes were heavy, my mind and my body tiered. Three years of searching for her, three years of restlessness, three years of hell right now became my peace because after all that time, she was finally where she belonged, with me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Edited by Sjdavis84 and StillDreaming85.**

 **MARIE CULLEN. (ISABELLA)**

I woke up to an odd feeling on my stomach. Something was pressing down on my abdomen, making movement almost impossible.

I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly a few times as I tried to adjust to the harsh morning light coming through the open window.

An arm was draped across me. I turned my head to the side to see Edward's sleeping form laying next to me.

My first thought was to jump up, to push him off of me and out of my bed, to yell and scream at him until my lungs hurt and my voice faded.

But I couldn't do that.

He looked too peaceful, it was a state in which I had never seen him in before.

Edward always slept with one eye open. He was always ready to jump up and attack at the slightest noise. But now, if it weren't for the steady rise and fall of his chest, I would have thought him dead.

He must have been very tired and I wondered when was the last time he had a proper night's sleep.

I removed his arm off of me with as much care as I could. I positioned my pillows on the bed and rested his arm on top of them before I quietly climbed out of the bed.

I grabbed my bathrobe and headed out the door knowing very well that if I were to use my bathroom he would more than likely wake up.

There was a bathroom downstairs that guests would use whenever Carmen and Eleazar entertained, I would have to make do with that this morning.

When I made it into the kitchen, Carlisle was already there making coffee. I glanced at the clock on the fridge, it was only five-thirty in the morning, what was he doing up so early?

"Good morning," he said.

"Morning," I mumbled, covering my mouth to block my yawn.

"Coffee?" He asked.

"Yes, please." I nodded. "Thank you," I said, taking the offered cup from his hand.

We sat together at Carmen's kitchen table in an awkward silence.

Carlisle and I, we never had a problem communicating with one another.

For someone in his line of work, Carlisle was very easy to talk to and could be quite funny. At times it was hard to believe that the man was a mafia boss, a career criminal when he was so laid back and easygoing.

But looks are deceiving and first impressions are always lies. To the outside world, to those who didn't know the Cullen family, the first impression one would have would be that of a loving family. One that works together, supports each other and offers unconditional love. But once that mask, that facade is removed, a dangerous and sometimes deadly truth is revealed.

Living freely in Sicily, I had seen things and heard things that would have made anyone else in my shoes runaway as fast as their legs would take them. Of course I didn't have that luxury, I knew I would never make it very far if I tried. Chances were, those two men would have been on me before I even reached the front gate.

I understood Carlisle's reason for sticking them with me, although he had never spoken the words out loud, it was clear that Carlisle was afraid of me.

Sicily was and is still very much controlled by the mafia and it was clear that Carlisle's family controlled the majority if not all of the territory.

But even with that in mind, there would have been nothing stopping me catching a flight to Rome or any other European city and running into a US embassy.

Carlisle was afraid, even after all this time, that I would do just that.

I wasn't stupid, I knew that Carlisle also kept track of every phone call and message I sent, as well as my search browser, which is why I had never looked up my own parents.

None of that bothered me though, not as much as it should have, because being here was better than being over there where regardless of what Edward said or did, I was nothing but a prisoner in his home with a nice view of Central Park. I liked it here, and no matter what Edward wanted, no matter what Carmen had said, I won't leave, I won't go back with him, back to that life of hiding me away.

"What are you thinking about?" Carlisle asked, dragging me out of my thoughts.

"Why is he here?"

"For you," he sighed.

"Why? Why now? Why did he wait three years?"

"He never knew where you were, but he never stopped looking. He thought he could get around me. I have to hand it to him, he was very determined to find you." He chuckled as he took a sip of his coffee.

"My own son has held a gun to my head more times than I can count these past years, all for you."

"I'm sorry," I said, although I'm not sure why.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Carlisle, I'm begging you," I started. This was it. If he wasn't going to answer my question now, he never would. "This has been eating away at me for a long time and I need to know the truth. Why didn't you just tell him where I was? Why did you help in the first place? It seems like you only created more problems for your family by helping me."

Carlisle was silent as he let my questions sink in. He stared back at me with what I could only describe as a look of pity, maybe anger, it was hard to understand.

"I had every intention of killing you," he said, his voice void of any emotion. "You were a complication that should have never happened. Because of you, my wife and my daughter were arrested and treated like animals. My granddaughter was left traumatized. They destroyed my home searching for you," he said still not bearing any emotion. He took a long and deep breath before he continued.

"However, none of it was your fault. My son knew better than to involve you, yet he still chose to travel down that road." He stopped, pondering over that thought for a moment. No matter what Anthony had done, he was still his son. Carlisle, he is a strong man and not one to show his emotions freely. But his son's sudden death had scared him, it scared the whole family.

"The reason I chose to help you, well, my wife had a part to play in that. If it weren't for Esme we would not be sitting here, you would not be sitting here."

Esme! Every time Carlisle spoke of his wife, even when she angered him, his face, his eyes would light up. Even after all those years of marriage, it was very clear that Carlisle loved his wife just as much as he did on the very first day. I believed that in his eyes Esme could do no wrong.

"I should thank her for that," I said.

"I won't lie to you. I wanted you to make a mistake, I wanted you to try and run so that I may have a reason to get rid of you without my wife hating me. I am however surprised you never tried, but I admire that also."

"I did think about it many times," I admitted.

"What stopped you from trying?" He asked.

"What would have been the point? I knew I would never get away with it. I knew about to two men you had following me almost right away."

"They were supposed to keep their distance," he said, clearly annoyed.

"They did. Yesterday was the first time I had seen them face to face or spoken to them."

"Then you are very observant." And I don't think he was happy about it either.

I shrugged. "I like it here, why would I run? Let's say I did manage to get away, what then? Face a media circus? Go to trial?

You're not a good person, I'm sorry to say that, but you're not. But you have been good to me when you didn't need to be. You have given me a chance at a normal life again, which in the situation I was in was more than I could have ever hoped for. Because of that Carlisle, I would never betray you," I said.

"I didn't know what to expect from you, Isabella," he said, but I cut him off.

"Please don't call me that," I begged.

"Sorry." For the first time Carlisle looked upon me with sympathy. "But it suits you better than Marie."

"I'm not that person anymore," I said, looking down at the table top.

"No matter what, Marie, you will always be that person, only stronger. Believe me, I have seen it all."

I believed him. After what I had seen at Victoria's, nothing surprised me anymore. I had seen abuse and rape day after day and night after night and now the man who had caused all of that, the man who was behind the abuse of those women and girls sat opposite me looking like he was the most harmless creature on the planet. The man that also happens to be my father-in-law.

"Someone else in your shoes would have crumbled by now, they would have gone crazy or taken their own life. You are a very strong person, that much I've learned about you. I hope you give Edward hell, because trust me when I say this he deserves far worse."

~MINY~

By eight that morning, Edward was still sound asleep. Not wanting to chance my luck, I borrowed some clothes from Carmen and headed out. I didn't have a class today and I had nowhere else to be, but I needed to get out of the house and away from him. I needed to put some distance between us so that I could have time to think without him close to me, clouding my judgement.

I won't lie, I'll admit the truth, I had missed him. But seeing him now was both joyous, and painful. I had worked hard at trying to put the past behind me, to move on and find an ounce of happiness.

I was happy here, could he not see that? Could he not understand that?

I was walking down the boardwalk by the docks. It was a beautiful morning, it was always beautiful here. The warm air, the bright sunshine and my favourite coffee shop only a few feet away. It was Eleazar that had taken me here on my first week, it was sort of his way of cheering me up. He said, if I liked coffee and if I loved chocolate I would love this place and he was right, everything they made was magnificent.

I was well aware of the man following me. There was only one today. I wondered where his partner was?

I was happy here by the water, my attention solely absorbed on the beautiful scenery. I was so absorbed that I hadn't noticed the person in front of me and collided right into their back.

"Are you alright there?" He asked. The first thing I picked up on was that, he spoke to me in English with a heavy Irish accent, the second thing was his piercing blue eyes, deep and dark, it made me feel as if I were staring into an ocean.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying where I was going," I said. I could feel my face heat up as I admitted my own carelessness.

"That's alright love, no harm done," he said, offering me a warm smile.

"I really am sorry."

"My name's Michael." He introduced himself, holding out his hand for me to shake. "Might I have the pleasure of knowing the beautiful lady's name?" He asked as he brought my hand up to his lips. It was something I had become accustomed to here. Men, no matter young or old, would always kiss a woman's hand.

"Marie."

"Only Marie?" He asked with a cheeky grin, revealing a deep dimple on each cheek.

"Only Marie," I said. That was all he needed to know. At the mention of the name Cullen, people reacted differently, they would treat me differently because they were afraid of that name.

This Michael could be nothing more than a simple tourist, still, he was a stranger who did not need that piece of information.

"Well then, only Marie. I would not suppose you have time to join me for a coffee, it would be my pleasure?"

"I...Um…"

"Please, Marie," he said, flashing me a pearly white smile and putting those dimples back on display.

This is a bad idea. I should refuse and walk away. I turned my head around to see my guard leaning against a signpost with his phone in his hand. He wore a pair of dark sunglasses, making it impossible for me to know where his attention was, but he was without a doubt reporting back to Carlisle. I wasn't doing anything wrong or dangerous and Carlisle had no reason to stop me from making a friend.

"Alright, sure," I said, smiling up at my new friend.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Edited by Sjdavis84 and StillDreaming85.**_

 _ **Banner by StillDreaming85.**_

 _ **Edward Cullen.**_

Watching my wife interact with another man wasn't an easy thing to do. Seeing the smile on her face, the way she relaxed and hung onto his every word, it ate away at me. It made me curse myself even more than I already have. But at the same time, it also made me angry. After all she was my wife and right now she was not acting like my wife.

Should I be upset? Or better yet, did I have any right to be upset with her knowing that I was no better?

The truth was no, but I was a possessive bastard and what was mine was mine and that included her.

It was Stefan, one of her guards, that had called my father and informed him that this was the fourth time in one week that Isabella had met with this man, this stranger. All that we gathered on him was that his name was Michael O'Laughlin and he was an Irish national, that was all.

Could he be a harmless tourist that has taken an interest in my wife? Probably.

But tourist had backgrounds, family history and friends, whereas this Michael had nothing, not even a bank account linked to his name, no talk of his birth, not even a credit rating.

"Si può ottenere molto ... permaloso," Stefan said. That made my blood boil. What right did he have to put his hands on my wife.

"Bastardo," I spat.

I left Stefan outside and walked into the small bistro taking a seat at a table close to them. I was seated so close to her, and yet she hadn't noticed me. She was so caught up in her conversation with another man, laughing with him and smiling, that she had not noticed me staring right at them, but he did. Whoever he was, was staring right back at me, smirking almost taunting.

I felt as if I knew him. I had seen him before somewhere, but I could not think of a time or a place. He looked familiar to me and yet he didn't.

Something about him made me uneasy, and it wasn't the fact that he was able to make my wife smile, no, it was something more.

I lost it when he reached out and touched her, brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek. I shot up out of my chair, making it land hard on the floor with a loud thud. It was then that her attention turned in my direction, it was then that she noticed me. I watched her face fall as fear, possibly anger spread across her features.

"Is there a problem?" The bastardo asked.

I didn't entertain him with an answer. I knew very well that I could kill him right here right now and no one would so much as bat an eyelash. In fact, they would even clean up my mess and dispose of the body. But I was not willing to do that in front of Isabella.

I simply walked up to her, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. She made no move to fight me at all, but her face, her eyes were burning with anger. I had never seen this side of her.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" She finally asked.

"Me? What hell are you doing here with another man?" I spat back at her.

"What I do and who I do it with is none of your concern."

"I beg to differ."

"Let go of me, Edward," she said, trying to wriggle her way out of my grasp. "You're hurting me."

"Let go of her," Michael finally spoke. Although he did look rather pleased, he hid it well.

"You would be wise to sit yourself back down," I said. "I am having a conversation with my wife."

"Wife?" He said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I am sorry, I did not know, but we are only friends I can promise you that." He had a thick a Irish accent, dark blue eyes, and I was tempted to rip the collar of his shirt to find a clover tattoo.

But that was absurd, it couldn't be. Liam had died many years ago, I was sure of that, it was us that killed him after all. But that didn't shake the feeling I had about this guy.

"What did you say your name was?"

"Michael," he said, holding his hand out to me.

"Michael, make sure you do not stick around here too long," I said, walking away and dragging my wife along with me. I was tempted, very tempted to signal Stefan to go and take Michael out, and that would have been my plan had Isabella not elbowed me in the gut.

"Fuck, dolcezza," I said, one hand holding onto my gut while the other refused to let her go. "What the hell was that for?"

"Really? What was that for? What the hell do you think that was for?" She yelled, as I pushed her into the passenger side of my car. "You had no right to do that." She continued.

"I had every right," I said, climbing in. "You are my wife, mine, and I don't appreciate my wife going around with another man, especially when everyone in Ragusa knows who you are."

"Is that your problem, what people would think? Then how about I tell them how my so called husband kidnapped me? How he me put me in a brothel and used me?" She said.

I slammed my foot down on the brakes and stopped the car in the middle of the road. I got out of the car. I went around to her side and pulled her out, pushing her up against the car.

"I did nothing to you, nothing," I said, getting right into her face. By now people on the street had stopped and were staring at the spectacle that I had created, but I was too far gone with rage to care. "I wanted to help you. I tried everything I could to help you, but you wouldn't let me. You ran away and hid from me thinking it would be the best for you."

"It was my choice," she said.

"You have no idea what you have done, none."

~MINY~

"Nipote," Eleazar said, waving his hand in front of my face. "Are you still with us?"

"What?" I asked.

"I said, Leo sent Janina here," my father informed me.

"He what?" I yelled.

Janina was the daughter of Leo Orsani, a man my father had done business with for many years. They were very good friends, like family almost. The problem with Leo was, his mother wasn't Italian so he wasn't full blooded and was never able to be initiated if you will into the family. But that didn't mean he didn't have his part within the family.

For a long time, Leo had tried to force his daughter on me. Maybe he thought it might open a door for him. Leo and Janina refused to take no for an answer and after numerous attempts to have them both back off I gave up and may have taken Janina up on what she was offering.

It was only meant to be a one time deal, just to get her off of my back. But it turned out it was the worst mistake I could have made because she has not left me alone since that one night.

"Why would you let Leo do that?" I asked my father.

"I did not do anything. It was Carmen who invited them for her party." He shrugged. "What's the matter figlio, are you afraid your wife will find out about your mistress?" he chuckled, taking a swig of his scotch.

"You," I said, pointing at him. "Are a piece of shit."

"So I am correct."

"There is nothing to find out. She is nothing but a...a putana who won't leave me alone."

Isabella was already beyond furious with me. She has not spoken a word to me since that morning at the cafe with her so called little friend. She hasn't seen him since, either, but she has also been ignoring me as well. She even locks her bedroom door now every night.

"Then you better make sure you keep her and your wife apart," my father said. He was enjoying this situation way too much. If it were his call, Janina would be my wife only because he believed she suits the roll and he has told me many times over the past years that I should stop searching for Isabella and move on with Janina. For all I know, this was my father's brilliant planning, my punishment because I had uncovered his secret. A way for him to get what he wanted without lifting a finger.

"If she comes anywhere near my wife, I can't promise you that you will not be digging her grave," I said.

"Don't do something stupid, Edward," Eleazar said. "Don't ruin your zia's party."

Having enough of the both of them. I pushed my chair out and stood up.

"I have moved a shipment over and I don't feel like heading out to see it arrive tonight. Why don't the two of you make yourselves useful and do something productive with your time," I said, as I walked out of Eleazar's office.

As I walked down the hallway towards the front door, I heard the one voice I didn't want to hear. She was standing in the foyer with Carmen wearing a tight black dress that showed all of her curves.

She said something to Carmen that I couldn't make out and then she laid eyes on me.

"Amore," she said, giving me a seductive smirk. "I missed you."

"Janina, what the hell are you doing here?" I asked, not in any mood to deal with her.

"Do not be so mean to me, amore. Come here and give me a hug," she said.

"I do not have time for you, Janina."

Janina never took no for an answer and she never backed down. As I walked towards the front door, she latched herself onto me, throwing her arms around my neck. As I turned around to push her off, her mouth and her arms flew around my neck, almost suffocating me.

"Get the fuck off of me," I said, pushing her away.

"Is that anyway to treat me amore." She pouted.

"Marie," Carmen said. She was just as shocked as I was to see her standing at the top of the stairs.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Edited by Sjdavis84 and StillDreaming85.**

 **Marie Cullen. (Isabella)**

A week had passed since the incident on the stairs. I had done my best to avoid Edward at all cost as well as avoiding his little friend, Janina. Which wasn't really that hard to do because wherever Edward was, Janina wasn't far behind. She followed after him like a lost puppy. It was suffocating to watch. Edward didn't appear to appreciate her presence the majority of the time that I had seen them together, yet he made no effort to get away from her.

There was clearly something going on between the two of them, or something had happened at some point.

I wasn't stupid, I knew that Edward had probably slept with her and yet I didn't know how to feel about that. There was no one emotion to describe it. It was almost as if I was empty.

It was late now as I made my way down to the kitchen. All the lights were off and the doors were closed.

One of the housekeepers was in the kitchen tidying up as I made myself a sandwich. I had made the excuse that I wasn't feeling well at dinner. Of course, Esme and Carmen hadn't brought my little lie, but they didn't push.

It was childish of me to act like this, to avoid him, them. But Edward wasn't exactly a reasonable man and when his mind was set on something, well there was no changing it.

He had tried to explain to me numerous times that he and Janina, it wasn't what it had looked like, and I told him the first thing that slipped out of my mouth, that I didn't care.

That didn't sit well with him. I honestly didn't know what reaction he was expecting me to have.

Was I supposed to feel angry? Jealous? Hurt even? I didn't know because the truth was, I felt nothing.

Maybe that's what made him angry, my indifference to the situation and the position I had caught him in.

I turned around to load my empty plate into the dishwasher. When I looked up, the housekeeper all but ran out of the kitchen. What a strange woman, I thought. But when I turned back around, I could see the reason she had high tailed out of here. Edward was leaning with his elbows on the bench top.

The first thing that caught my eye, was his red and bruised knuckles and I wondered who had gotten on his wrong side.

The second thing that caught my eye, was the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants. He made no effort to cover it up, nor did he seem to care.

"What are you doing down here?" He asked. "I thought you were sick."

"I was hungry," I said, avoiding his gaze. I hated it, the way he would look at me, it was always so intense.

"And you're feeling better now?"

All this small talk was pointless. It was his way of trying to get me stuck into a conversation with him. Maybe he thought that by some miracle I would fall for it.

But there was one thing Edward had failed to realize, I wasn't a little girl anymore. I wasn't the same person I was three years ago. I had grown up and learned so much more.

"Cut the small talk," I said. "Say what you have to say and be done already. I'm tired of this."

He slowly straightened himself up. He walked around the long island bench. I followed his every move.

I had nowhere to run. I was trapped between the bench, the wall and the dishwasher on the opposite side. I could always jump over the bench, I thought. But was I really that desperate to get away from him?

My decision had been made for me though. It was too late, he stood now right in front of me, so close our bodies were almost touching.

He was fast. I don't remember him being that fast. He waited, waited for me to look up at him.

As much as I didn't want to, as much as I wanted to go on ignoring him. I knew he wasn't a patient man and I didn't know how short his fuse was right now. So I put us both out of our miseries and looked up at him, it was a decision I regretted instantly.

He was furious, yet he was trying to hold back. His hands were by his sides balled into fists. I had seen Edward angry before, but I don't remember him being anything like this. I prayed that someone would come and find us in the kitchen, Esme, maybe Carmen or even Carlisle. Even Janina would do right now, as long as it gave me the chance to get away from Edward.

"I don't like your attitude, dolcezza. I don't remember you being so...bratty," he said.

"I thought you wanted to talk about your little girlfriend," I said, refusing to be intimidated by him.

"Let me make one thing clear here, dolcezza. She is not my girlfriend and what you saw was nothing than a misunderstanding," he said.

A misunderstanding? Is that what he's going to call it? Or did he really think I was that stupid. It was hard not to laugh in his face and my outburst caught him off guard, which let me slip past him and put some distance between us.

"A misunderstanding, really Edward is that the best you can do?" I laughed. "You know what, I don't care. What you do or who you do it with is none of my business. But you are such a hypocrite"

'What the hell are you talking about?" He said, taking a step towards me, but I took one back.

"You almost killed a man because I was having a conversation with him and then I find you with your tongue down another woman's throat after you claim to love me and you can stand there and call it a misunderstanding?" I yelled. I didn't know where all of this was coming from. Maybe deep down I was angry at him, angry that he had lied to me. Angry that he claimed to love me and then pull a stunt like that knowing very well that I could walk in and see it.

"I do love you. Don't you ever question me about that," he said, reaching out and grabbing my hand pulling me to him. I didn't like this. I didn't like this closeness, it did something to me, it clouded my judgment.

"And I told you what you saw was a misunderstanding, If you would have let me explain earlier than we could have avoided this past week. We could have avoided you avoiding me."

"I was not avoiding you," I said.

He raised his brow, knowing himself that that was a lie.

"Who is she then?" I finally asked him.

Carmen had told me in large that Janina was the daughter of one of Carlisle's important contacts, but that was all Carmen said. Maybe that was all she knew or maybe she didn't want to tell me, or maybe she chose not to get involved.

"She is a...Not important," he said, avoiding my question.

"You're going to have to do better than that, Edward. I'm not stupid."

"And I told you I don't like your attitude."

"Alright, I'm done," I said, snatching my hand back. He wanted to play this game and I was not in the mood. If he couldn't answer a simple question, how did he expect me to believe anything else he tells me?

What bothered me though was, why did I want to know so much who this woman was to him? Why did I suddenly care when I was so sure I didn't? Why was it that when I thought about the two of them now, when my mind showed me the picture of the two of them together, my blood boiled. I felt my anger rise and I had the sudden urge to take it all out on someone, on her, on him.

Was I jealous? Is this what jealousy felt like? If so I didn't like it one bit. I was never a violent person. But now the only thing that I could think of was killing Janina and the satisfaction it would bring me.

"Dolcezza, come here now," Edward called out. "I'm not done with you yet."

"Well, I'm done with you."

I almost made the perfect escape. I was sure he was not following after me because I couldn't hear his footsteps following behind me. When I made it up the stairs and to my room. I almost had a heart attack when I saw him standing in front of my bed with his arms crossed.

"How did you get here before me?"

"You are forgetting dolcezza, I spent a lot of summers here as a child. I know this house back to front, including the staircase between the walls," he said, as he removed his gun from the waistband of his pants. My breath caught in my throat for a second as I thought of the worst, before he placed the gun down on my bedside.

"Get out," I demanded.

"I don't think so." He chuckled. "You are my wife and it's about time you started acting like it."

"What is that suppose to mean?"

He was beside me in a flash, I didn't even have time to blink. He pulled me to him by the hem of my shirt, I heard it rip in the process.

In the time that I had spent with Edward before, I had never seen him like this. It was almost as if it wasn't him and that scared me. This Edward scared me, more than Anthony ever did.

He kissed me without asking, I wasn't prepared but he didn't care. There was nothing gentle about it, not like before. The stubble on his face scraped against mine uncomfortably.

He walked me back until the back of my knees hit the bed. He pushed me back. I leaned up on my elbows as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Please don't do this," I cried. He wouldn't. He couldn't. This wasn't him, but then again, I never knew the real him.

He paid no attention to my pleas, in fact, I don't think he even heard me. He leaned down and captured my mouth with his in another angry kiss. I pushed and banged my fists on his chest with as much force as I could, but I was no match for him.

But when he stopped. He rested his forehead against mine. I was too scared to open my eyes but I could hear him, I could hear his soft cried and then I felt his tears slip down onto my face.

I was lost I didn't know what to do. So I just stayed there and I held onto him and I let him cry on me. I didn't know what was going on in his head. I didn't know what had caused this. But seeing him in this way. He was always so strong and determined, never broken. It broke me to see him this way.

I don't know how long we stayed there like that. My arms were numb, my whole body was numb. He had placed almost all of his weight on me. But he got up, he kicked his shoes off and pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, taking me with him.

"You're my wife," he whispered into my ear.

Not giving it a second thought, I answered him. "I'm your wife."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Edited by Sjdavis84 and StillDreaming85.**_

 _ **Marie Cullen. (Isabella)**_

Edward and I never talked about that night and what had happened, or almost happened. We didn't talk about his breakdown. I didn't talk about it and he never brought it up.

When I woke up the morning after, he had already gone.

From that day on it was as if he had become a different person, colder, brutal, even his father was having trouble keeping up with him.

But maybe this was the real him, the him that I never really got a chance to know. Maybe this was the monster Anthony was saying he was, maybe.

I hadn't seen much of Michael recently. That was only because I knew it would get back to Edward and the last thing I wanted to do was have Michael murdered because of me. I knew all too well that Edward was capable of just that. Michael did however call and text me almost every day.

If Edward was aware of this, he never let it be known, which only lead me to believe that he really had no clue because it wasn't like him to keep it to himself, especially with the way he has been acting lately.

I wanted to rub it in his face and call him a hypocrite, because that's what he was plain and simple.

Why could I not be friends with Michael, when he had Janina chasing after him?

I was still to meet Janina, personally that is, but I don't think I wanted to either.

Sure we had bumped into each other around the house, but every time either Carlisle or Eleazer would appear out of nowhere and come up with some distraction to drag one of us away. It was as if they were all purposely trying to keep us apart, which only aroused my suspicions more as to why she was actually here and why she was chasing after Edward for that matter.

My curiosity was getting the better of me and I was going to ask the only person I knew I could convince to give me an answer, Esme.

"Why is Carlisle going out of his way to keep Janina and I apart?" I asked.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Marie. Why would he do that?" The trouble with Esme, she was a convincing liar. But in this case, I already knew the truth so her efforts were pointless.

"Can we not do this, please Esme," I said. I had been lied to by these people so many times, but it never bothered me before. I always thought that maybe it was better that I didn't know the truth. But I wanted to know now. I needed to know now.

Esme sighed, knowing she had been defeated or maybe she, just like me, realised that I too deserved to know what was truly going on.

She looked around the room, making sure there was no one within earshot of us. She scooted her chair as close as she could to mine and leaned in close.

"Janina and her father, Leo, do not believe that Edward is really married," she whispered.

"Why would they think that?" I frowned.

"Leo always considered himself more important in our family than he actually was, yet he never once paid Carlisle a visit when he was locked away. Leo never called or came by to see if I was okay or if my children were okay."

Esme was bitter in the way she spoke of Leo and she made no attempt to hide it either.

"Anyway's. When you and Edward were married, no one opened their mouths to speak of it. No one gave out any details, not even a single picture. They would not have dared."

I believed that. I of all people knew that first hand.

"Edward did not invite Leo, and because he was not there and because no one dared open their mouths, no one talked in length about that day, Leo thinks it was all a set up, a lie, in order to keep Edward in the position that he is in so that Carlisle didn't have to take over from Edward."

"And Edward had to be married to keep his position in the family because?" I asked, because that made no sense to me. Granted, I didn't know much about how the mafia worked and operated, only what I had seen for myself and no one was willing to explain anything to me either.

"It is the way things have been done since...since the beginning I guess. It's about tradition and respect," she said.

"Is that why Edward married me, because he needed to keep his title?"

"I...I do not know, Marie. But I do not think that is why he married you, although I do think he could have gone about it better. But maybe this is a question you should ask him."

"You still haven't answered my question, Esme," I said, as I chewed nervously on my bottom lip.

"Isab...Marie, there are some things you are not meant to know."

"I want to know. I have a right to know. I am sick and tired of all of you lying to me and treating me like this," I said, raising my voice and jumping out of my chair.

"Marie, stop it. Sit down before Carlisle hears you," she said.

"No. I didn't ask for any of this you know. I didn't ask to be in this family. I didn't ask to be your son's wife. I didn't want to know any of you. But I had no choice. I'm stuck here in this life with you, with all of you, and even after all this time you still treat me like I am a prisoner."

At this point I was beyond frustrated and tired. Have I not done enough these past years to earn their trust? What more did I need to do?

"Esme, is everything okay?" Carlisle asked, appearing all too conveniently behind me. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes or turn around and bang on his chest and demand that he be the one to tell me the truth. After all, I'm only here because of him. But I knew none of that would help me right now. No matter how much I wanted to yell and scream, no matter how much I wanted to turn on my heal and run out of here as fast as I could and as far as I could manage. I knew none of that would help me, they would find me anyways no matter where I went.

I took a deep breath to calm myself down. I turned around to face Carlisle. "Everything is fine," I said, and walked past him out of the room.

I stormed down the long marble hallway, thankful that I was barefoot and my footsteps wouldn't echo through the hallway.

I was beginning to think that someone was following after me. I could hear faint voices behind me, but when I turned around there was no one there.

I must be losing my mind, I thought to myself. There was no one else here beside Esme, Carlisle and myself. Everyone else had seemed to have disappeared today. The house was empty.

But then I could hear it again, the faint voice, or almost a moan.

One of the doors was slightly ajar. There must be someone in there, but who?

As carefully as I could, I walked up to the slightly opened door. I knew I shouldn't be doing this. I knew I should go away and mind my own business especially in this house and in this family, but it was as if something was pushing me to go there.

I could not believe what I saw before my own eyes. I blinked rapidly thinking that I must be seeing things, but the noises they were making made it very real.

Edward was on the sofa in Eleazar's office with Janina straddling his lap. Her bare chest was right in his face. Her dress was bunched up around her waist and her panties and been disposed of. Edward's hands were firmly on her hips. I couldn't see his face and I couldn't make out what he had just said to her.

"You mean your imaginary wife," Janina laughed. "Look at me and look at her."

"Shut your fucking mouth," Edward said, in his deadly tone, but Janina didn't seem to care. She laughed at him.

"Stop fighting this, amore. You know we are meant to be," she said as she leaned her head down to his chest.

I quickly moved away from the door before Edward could see me.

I was angry. I was so angry that I could feel my hands, my whole body shaking. And suddenly I felt as if the walls were closing in around me.

I needed to get out of here and fast. I needed to get away from him, from them, from everything.

I ran out of the house and into the garage and grabbed the first set of keys off the hook. They were from the Bentley Edward had been driving but I didn't care enough to grab another set. I needed to get out of here. I took my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans and threw it on the passenger seat as I pressed the button to start the engine. I turned down the vizor and found the remote for the gate and opened it. Two of the guards at the gate looked at me suspiciously as I approached to exit, but they made no move to stand in my way and stop me.

The further I drove away from the house, the more I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of me. I felt as if I could breath again. I knew what had happened, but I wasn't willing to admit it to myself yet.

After driving aimlessly for about twenty minutes, I pulled over to the side of the road and looked at my phone. I picked it up and unlocked the screen. No one had called me yet. There were no messages. I guess Edward was still very much preoccupied to notice his wife had stolen his car.

I couldn't think about that. I couldn't think about him with her right now or I would no doubt feel sick again. So I did the only thing that felt right. I called the one person that made sense to me right now. He picked up on the first ring.

"Michael."

 _ **~MINY~**_

Michael had insisted that I go to his place. That was about an hour away from where I had pulled over. But I told him I couldn't do that knowing that Edward probably had a tracker in the car and possibly in my phone. Michael came up with the idea that I drive into town and leave the car outside the dance studio and he would pick me up.

I had just pulled up outside the studio when I noticed Michael was already there waiting for me. I parked Edward's car and left my phone inside as well. If he or anyone else were planning on tracking me, well good luck to them.

"Hey, are you okay?" Michael asked.

"I'm fine. Can we please get out of here fast," I said, getting into the passenger seat. I didn't want to spend another second next to Edward's car knowing that he could know where I was.

"Alright."

The drive to Michael's place was longer than I thought it would be. Right now I had no idea where we were and I could not help but begin to panic slightly. How stupid could I be to not have taken my phone with me or to have even left a note on the car.

Haven't I learned anything. How could I trust Michale so easily when I knew nothing about him?

"Hey, calm down," he said. I noticed the car had come to a stop outside a beautiful villa overlooking a lake. "You're starting to hyperventilate. I can take you back if you are worried but I can promise you I'm not a bad guy."

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to compose myself. "I'm just...Things with Edward are...I needed…" I didn't even know how to finish my own words. I didn't know what to say to him because there was nothing I could say.

"Don't worry Marie, you don't have to tell me anything," he said, taking a hold of my hand. It surprised me how nice it felt. "How about we sit outside by the lake and make the most of this nice day."

"I'd like that."


	7. Chapter 7

Marie Cullen.

I felt peaceful, at ease, as I sat here looking out onto the lake. It was as if a sense of calm had washed over me and for this brief moment in time, I had forgotten everyone and everything even Michael who sat beside me.

Everything here was forgotten. Everything slipped my mind. I cannot begin to explain the joy that brought me.

"Hey there," Michael said, waving his hand in front of my eyes. "Are you still with me?" He asked.

"I'm sorry, I spaced out again, didn't I," I said, shaking myself off.

"That's alright love. You look like you have a lot on your mind," he said, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. His action, as small as it was, felt good yet wrong at the same time. "Want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"It's...Nothing really," I said. There was no one I could talk to about Edward, not even Michael. What was I supposed to tell him?

"You said your husband did something. What did he do?" Michael asked, shifting closer to me. He took my hand in his and rubbed small circles on the back of my palm with his thumb.

"It's a…" I sighed, trying to think of the best excuse I could use to get Michael to drop it. "It's a long and complicated story, Michael."

"We have nothing but time, love. I don't want to push you I just want to make sure that you are okay."

I hated that he was being sweet. I hated that he was gentle and caring because it made turning him down hard.

But maybe this is exactly what I needed. Maybe I just needed to speak to someone about my life, about Edward and everyone else around me.

"I saw something I wasn't suppose to," I said.

"Like what?" Michael asked.

"Like seeing my husband with a woman on his lap, naked."

The truth was, I was shocked by my own reaction to what I had seen. Who was Edward to me really, other than my kidnapper, my abuser? He was no one, no one that I should care about, no one that should interest me. So why was it that what he did bothered me so?

"Oh love. He is an idiot then, if he cannot see what he has right in front of him, then he doesn't deserve you."

"I don't even know why it bothers me so much," I admitted.

"He is your husband. It would bother anyone in your situation to be cheated on."

"My situation." I laughed. If only Michael knew…

"How about you?" I asked. I wanted to change the subject. I needed the distraction. It was easy to forget with Michael and I knew that there might be a chance that I may slip up and tell him the truth.

"What about me?"

"Where are you from? What do you do? Family? Friends? Wife? Husband?" I asked.

He threw his head back laughing. He finally let go of my hand and leaned down on the grass popping himself up on his elbows as he stared ahead at the water.

"I am not a very interesting man. I have no family left and the people I once thought were my friends, betrayed me. I am all by myself in this world, Marie," he said. There were many emotions that crossed his face as he spoke. Anger, bitterness, hurt. I wondered what his story was and if he would ever tell me the details or continue to be cryptic?

"What happened?" I asked.

"It's a long and complicated story," he said, repeating my own words.

"We have nothing but time." I smiled.

"Marie." He sighed. "My past is not something I want to open up about, at least not right now. There is too much hurt and pain and right now all I want to do is enjoy your company."

I watched him as he continued to stare out at the water. I took in all his features from the profile and I wondered who or what had hurt him so bad in this life?

Maybe he and I weren't that different. Maybe he and I had more in common than I first thought.

We have both been hurt. Taken advantage of by those close to us. Used by the people that were supposed to care and protect us.

Or maybe I was reading too much into it.

Although I didn't know all of Michael's story, the brief of what he had told me and the emotion he told it with spoke louder than his voice ever could. Sometimes it's our silence that gives us away.

"Do you fancy a swim in the lake?" He asked, as he jumped to his feet.

"I don't have anything to swim in," I said.

"You have your underwear, love, that is more than enough. Unless you would like to skinny dip." He winked.

He slipped his shoes and socks off and pulled his shirt over his head. I looked the other way. I felt weird watching him undress.

When I turned back around, he was walking into the water in nothing but his briefs. But what caught my eye was the tattoo on his back and neck.

From where I sat, it looked like he had a small black clover on his neck and a family tree on his back.

The tree started at the small of his back and the branches stopped just below his shoulders. Each branch had a name on the end written in elegant script in a language I could not make out.

But perhaps the most unusual feature was the oddly shaped crest in the center or the trunk.

"Are you going to come and join me? Or are you going to sit there and stare at my rear all day?" He asked, smirking at me with those dimples of his on display.

I bit my lip to stop my own nervous chuckle from escaping. I didn't need to look in a mirror to know that my face was bright red.

"I was actually admiring your tattoo," I told him, as I pushed myself up off the ground and sipping my shoes off.

"There is nothing to admire about it, love."

"I disagree. It is very unique."

"I suppose it is," he mused. "Are you going to let me entertain myself or are you going to join me?"

Not giving it any more thought, I slipped my clothes off and folded them in a neat pile by my shoes.

"Your husband," Michael said, as he looked me up and down.

"What about him?" I asked, looking all around us alarmed that somehow Edward had managed to track us back here.

What if someone had followed us here? I was certain that no one had seen us, but now I wasn't so sure.

"He is a fool if he cannot see what he has right in front of him. Look at you," he said, in admiration.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I stepped into the warm water.

Somewhere in the back of my mind there were alarm bells ringing, shouting at me to turn around, to not get into the water with Michael, to put my clothes on and run away from him as fast as I could.

But it was a fruitless effort because I ignored all the warnings. I didn't care because for the first time I felt something that I never felt before. I felt safe and wanted. Michael made me feel those things and as wrong as I knew this was right now, there was no way I could stop it.

"Is it safe to swim in this lake?" I asked as I approached him, he had swum further out and away from the shore.

"Do you think I would let you in it if it wasn't?"

I swam away from him in the opposite direction. I closed my eyes and just let myself float there above the water with the warm sun on my face. For this moment, everything was alright, everything was great. In this moment there was only a woman enjoying a simple swim with a friend. In this moment I was no one special and yet he made me feel every bit important to him for all the right reasons.

I was so caught up in my own space, in my own world floating here, that I did not see or hear him approach me. I felt him standing over me blocking the warm sun. I opened my eyes and stood up on my feet. The water wasn't very deep.

He brought his hand up to my face. My first instinct was to flinch away. It was an action I regretted when I saw the look on Michael's face. It wasn't something I had meant to do, but it was what I had been used to.

But that didn't stop Michael. With the back of his fingers, he stroked them along the side of my face, along the couture of my lips and under my chin.

"I wish there was a way for me to take away all the hurt that he has caused you. You are too beautiful to frown," he said.

And then he kissed me. He moved so fast that I never saw it coming. But I did nothing to stop him.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him, deepening our kiss and I let him. I put my own arms around his neck and kissed him back, forgetting where we were, forgetting who I was, forgetting everything.

But my moment was short lived, because the reality of what I was doing flashed before my eyes. I stopped our kiss and pushed him away. What the hell had I done? How could I have let that happen?

"I need to go," I said, as I started making my way towards the shore.

"Marie…"

"I have to go. Please, I have to go," I begged.

"It's okay, I'll take you back," he said. "I'm sorry, Marie, I shouldn't have done that."

"It's not your fault," I said, trying to reassure him because it wasn't all his fault. Yes, he had kissed me knowing that I was a married woman but I hadn't exactly stopped him either. We were both at fault, it wasn't fair for him to take all the blame.

~MINY~

I had begged Michael to stop me around the corner from the studio. I didn't know if there would have been someone waiting for me by Edward's car and I didn't want to risk Michael getting involved. No matter what, I would not have his blood on my hands.

Michael wasn't thrilled with the idea of dropping me off around the corner, even though I assured him I would be fine. It wasn't even that late only a quarter past nine and in Ragusa, the streets were still full of life. But that knowledge hadn't warmed Michael to my decision. But in the end he agreed to do as I had said, which turned out to be a good thing, a very good thing.

As I turned the corner, there stood Carlisle leaning casually against the hood of the car with his arms folded across his chest with a look I have never seen on his face, murderous.

There was one thing I was certain of, and that was, that I was in a lot of trouble. But why was it that he was here? Where was Edward?

I had two options. One, I could make my way over to Carlisle and face my fate. Or two, I could turn around and run back and maybe catch Michael before he drove away.

But I knew better than that. I knew that running away was never going to be an option because I knew that I would never make it far and I knew I could not involve Michael in my messed up life.

Having no other option, I approached Carlisle and awaited my fate.

We stood in front of each other, both of us not saying a word. Moments went by until he moved from his position and approached me.

He was furious and I didn't know why. What had I done to upset him so?

What I hadn't been prepared for was the sharp slap across my face. My head turned to the side from the force of it.

I held onto my face willing myself not to cry. I didn't want to, not in front of him.

"Get in the car," he said.

I did as I was told. I didn't want to further his anger. Carlisle didn't speak a word the entire car ride back. As the gates opened to the property so to did my anxiety. My hands were balled into fists. My nails digging into my palms. I had never been this nervous not even with Anthony. Because with Anthony, he was almost easy to predict. He was always hurting me even when he was smiling and happy. But with Carlisle, I had never seen him mad, never experienced it and the unknown scared me now more than ever. I had this feeling deep in the pit of my stomach. It was an unexplainable feeling, one that I have only felt once before.

Carlisle led me into the house. With his hand on the small of my back, he pushed me through the house. There was not a trace of anyone around and I wondered where they all went. I hoped and prayed someone would come out and take me away from Carlisle, Esme, Carmen, but there was no one.

In the dining room, Edward sat at the head of the table. His hands were a bloodied mess. There was no trail of destruction around him, nothing that could have caused him harm.

He had that unreadable expression on his face, the one that I had become accustomed to.

"You were with him, weren't you." It wasn't a question it was a fact. One that he sounded very certain of.

"Does it matter?" I asked, surprised that I had found my own voice.

The sound of Edward's chair scraping against the hardwood floor pierced through the room. As Edward stood up I took his appearance in from head to toe coming to the realization that the blood on his hands was in fact not his but someone else's.

"Yes, dolcezza, it does matter," he said, walking around the table until we were face to face. Carlisle had made himself disappear, unnoticed. "It matters when my wife disappears for a whole fucking day with another man," he yelled.

"I saw you with Janina today," I said, watching his face drop at my revelation.

"What happened to your face?" He asked, reaching out to touch me but, I moved away from him.

"Ask your father."

"Don't mess with me right now, Isabella," he warned.

"Or what? What are you going to do, Edward?" I challenged, realizing I may have a death wish pushing him like this.

"Why does it matter where I was or who I was with when you were with her?"

"If I ever see or hear that you have been with him again, I will kill him and make sure that you watch," he said, gritting his teeth. "You are my wife, mine," he yelled.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 **WARNING:** **The contents of this chapter contain graphic violence and abuse that some may find offensive.**

Edited by Stilldreaming85.

 **Marie Cullen.**

It's funny, there are moments in your life that you can almost pinpoint, predict what will happen. There are people that you can read like an open book, nothing is mysterious anymore, there are no surprises.

I thought I knew Edward. I thought I had figured out at least a small part of him.

But I was wrong. All those times I had thought Edward had been the better brother, to an extent even my savior. I could not have been any more wrong. Anthony was never a monster, not to this extent at least, it had always been Edward. I realise that now, more than ever, as I am forced to sit in this room and watch.

Edward had left me alone last night and I had thought everything had been said and done. I was wrong.

I could have happily ignored Edward for the rest of the day if not longer, lord knows he didn't deserve any attention.

But ignoring Edward had been my first mistake. I had failed to pay any close attention to him thus unable to recognize that he was in no mood to be messed with.

For a split second, I wondered if there was something else affecting his current state. Maybe he was drunk or possibly had taken something? Because the man in the room with me right now was not Edward, not the Edward that I knew. But then I only knew the Edward that Edward let me know, nothing more nothing less.

I feared for my own life, my safety. I feared that he would hurt me. But all that was incomparable to what Stefan was going through right now.

Stefan, who had let me out.

Stefan, who was supposed to always follow me.

Stefan, who in Edward's eyes made one mistake and now he was paying the ultimate price.

"Please stop," I cried. "Please, you are going to kill him."

But my cries fell on deaf ears. Edward didn't pay me attention. No, his attention was solely on destroying Stefan, something he and Carlisle both wanted me to witness.

Maybe Edward, or even Carlisle thought this was a good form of punishment for me. To watch them destroy one man while reminding me of the other.

I had made a mistake yesterday, I realise that now. I should have never left the way that I did. I should have known better, but I let my anger get the better of me. Maybe, just maybe if I would had stopped for a moment. if I had have taken the time to think about my next step. Stefan would still be in one piece. He should not be punished because of my stupidity, it wasn't fair.

"Stop?" Edward laughed bitterly. "Dolcezza, I haven't even began."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I willed myself not to cry or to throw up, but the smell of blood and hot flesh was too powerful, too overwhelming. I couldn't control it any longer. I leaped out of my chair and out of Carlisle's grasp and kneeled down under the desk where the small trash can was hidden and emptied the contents of my stomach.

This was all too much. I couldn't handle this, I didn't know how to. I thought Carlisle was different, but he was only a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"Get up Isabella," Edward said.

I tried to listen. I didn't want to anger him even more than he already was. I grabbed some tissues and wiped my mouth. I tried to stand up, but I was so nervous my whole body was shaking and my knees bucked.

I was scared, too scared to stand up, too scared to look at him and worried because I didn't know what his next move would be.

I heard him mumble some incoherent words under his breath before he grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. His blood stained hands now stained my skin.

I looked over to Carlisle on the sofa. He sat with his arms spread out across the back of the sofa and his legs crossed. He sat casually and calmly as he witnessed the scene before him, clearly pleased at what he saw.

I dared to look up at Edward but there was nothing to see, no emotion, not a flicker of anything, only an unreadable mask. I did not dare glance over at Stefan.

"Look at him, dolcezza," he said, dragging me to where Stefan lay in a bloodied mess on the floor. "Look at what you have done to him."

He trapped me in his arm. One bloodied hand on the back of my head, forcing it down, forcing me to look, but I kept my eyes tightly shut.

"Open your eyes. You can't hide from this now," he said in my ear.

"Please, stop this, Edward," I begged. I couldn't take it anymore, not him, not this room, not the smell and poor Stefan.

He released his hold on me and I took the opportunity to take a step away from him, to turn around and open my eyes. But my small moment of relief was short lived when I turned and saw Edward holding out a hunting knife towards me.

I looked between the knife and him. I was unsure of what it was he wanted me to do.

"Take it," he said. I continued to look at the object as if it would set me on fire if I were to touch it.

"Take it, Isabella," he repeated again with obvious irritation now. What ever calm he had been holding onto was starting to slowly slip away.

Not wanting to test his mood even more I hesitantly reached out and took the knife from him, which seemed to weigh a ton in my hand.

Without another word, Edward took my free hand in his and pulled me towards Stefan. I felt as if my feet had been cemented to the ground. I didn't want to move, but Edward didn't give me a choice.

He pushed me to my knees by Stefan's side and crouched down beside me.

Mentally I was not here. Mentally my mind was a million miles away from the scene in front of me and what was happening in this room.

Edward roughly grabbed Stefan's hair, pulling his head back. Stefan let out a painful groan. How he was still alive, I did not know.

"Slit his throat, Isabella," Edward commanded.

I blinked rapidly shaking my head, I was not sure if I had heard him right or if my mind was playing tricks on me.

"Do it," he pushed. "Do it now."

"I can't, Edward, please," I said, my voice trembling, my hands were shaking. No matter what, I could not take another person's life. I couldn't, I wasn't like them, like him.

I had already lost so much of myself because of Edward and his family, I did not want to lose what little I had left.

"Do it," he yelled. "End him."

I felt sick to my stomach all over again. I could feel myself shaking, but I was unable to control it no matter how hard I tried. The hunting knife in my hand shook along with me until it slipped onto the marble floor bouncing off and echoing in the room. It was the gentlest of sounds that seemed to shatter my eardrums.

I crawled away from Edward and far away from Stefan.

Edward gathered the knife and brought it to Stefan's throat, pressing down hard until blood began to ooze out. In one swift motion, he dragged it across his neck. It didn't take Stefan long to die, mere seconds. He had made no effort to stop Edward or to fight for his life and I was powerless to have helped him.

I stayed where I was in a heap on the floor. I wasn't sure if it was fear that was keeping me here like this or pure shock. I had heard Carlisle move, I knew he was now crouching down beside me. I felt his hand on my arm as he helped me to my feet.

I couldn't take my eyes off of Edward though. I watched his every move. I watched him stand up. I watched him come towards me. I looked him dead in the eye as we stood face to face. He leaned into me and placed a lingering kiss on my cheek before he placed the knife on the desk and walking out of the room.

"Go and clean yourself up, we have company tonight," Carlisle said.

Deep down inside I wanted to scream, to yell. I wanted to grabbed the knife off of the desk and hurt Carlisle with it the same way that Edward had hurt Stefan.

But I did none of that. I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded my head. I turned and headed out of the room, remembering every step I took until I reached my room.

I filled the tub up with water and removed my shoes. I climbed in with my clothes still on rested my head against the tub closing my eyes and letting myself slowly slip under. Hopefully god would forgive me.


	9. Chapter 9

Edited by Stilldreaming85.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Edward Cullen.**

Rage was my ultimate downfall, my ultimate destroyer.

I was not a good person, I knew that and I could live with that. But it hurt like hell knowing that she knew how bad I was.

Was there a reason behind my actions?

Yes!

Rage!

I wanted her to hurt like she had made me hurt and as selfish as that may be, it felt somewhat good knowing that she had felt some of my pain.

Even so, if I could take it all back, I would because no matter how much I wanted her to hurt, I never wanted her to hate me.

When she didn't come down for dinner last night, when she didn't come down to greet my sister and brother in law, I had left her alone as did everyone else. It was for the best, I knew she needed time to herself.

But today her time was up. She could not hide away forever. She had not even opened her door to Carmen or my mother. It was now nightfall and at this point no one had seen or heard a word out of her.

"I do not think you should go up there," Carmen said.

"Well, it's a lucky thing that I do not care what you think," I said, setting up a tray of food to take up to Isabella's room with me.

"You need to give her time to process what has happened."

"She has had more than enough time," I said, irritated.

"You killed a man in front of her. What did you expect nipote, that she would jump in your arms and say good job?" Carmen scalded, slamming her palms down on the kitchen bench.

"She is my wife," I said, choosing to ignore her outburst at me. My zia had a tendency to put her nose in places where it did not belong and this was one of them.

"Then you should treat her as such."

"Are you bored?" I asked. "Do you not have an event to organize?"

"Where is Janina?" She asked with a raised brow.

"Why is that any of your concern?"

"If you want my advice, nipote, I would get rid of the mistress before trying to make amends with the wife. You never know nipote, maybe the next time she walks out the front door she might not walk back in," my zia chuckled. "She would have been a very smart girl if she had not come back the other night."

I knew what it was Carmen was trying to do and I was not about to fall for it, but that did not mean that her attempt did not have some effect on me.

I had gripped the edge of the granite bench until my knuckles had turned white and almost snapped.

"You would be wise to mind your own business, zia. We wouldn't want something bad to happen now would we."

"You might be this famiglia's capo, nipote, but you should know by now not to make threats that you cannot deliver on," she said, staring at me.

"I am not threatening you, zia, I am promising you. Famiglia or not, do not test me."

 **~MINY~**

Maybe I was a fool, but after my little talk with Carmen in the kitchen, I decided not to bother Isabella, because as much as I do not want to admit it, I think my zia was right in saying I needed to leave my wife alone at least until I sorted Janina out.

The problem with Janina though, was that I could not simply dispose of her the way I wanted to, not just yet. She had a purpose after all.

As I sat here in Eleazar's and Carmen's living room with a drink in my hand, I thought of all that had gone wrong in my life these past few years. It was a dangerous thing to do to let my mind wander away to that dark place.

But the more I thought about it the more I realized I was the only one to blame for all of the mess that had happened.

Right from the beginning I had all the power to put a stop to what my brother had done and yet I did nothing. I sat back and watched him, let him torture Isabella, dare I say I even helped him.

I had had numerous occasions to have ended her and put her out of her misery and yet every time the thought alone made me sick to my stomach. I could not see her dead, I could not take her life myself and yet I couldn't let her go either.

Three years ago all I wanted was for her to finally have some happiness, and now...all I wanted was to hurt her, to make her feel what I felt when she disappeared.

Why?

Maybe it was because she had agreed to my father's plans.

Maybe it was the fact that she had found happiness without me.

Or maybe it was that she wouldn't let herself be happy with me. She would not let me love her because I did, I do love her.

I let the drink slip through my fingers and onto the floor, not giving a damn if it stained Carman's carpet.

I leaned forward, letting my head fall into my hands. It felt as if a ton of brinks was now resting in my palms or maybe it just was that I had no strength left in me right now.

The silence around me was both a relief and a disaster. It was peaceful, but I wanted the noise, I wanted to hear voices, anyone's. Because in the quiet all I had were my thoughts and they were things that I could not and would not deal with now.

I was thankful when I heard faint footsteps coming down the stairs. They became louder and louder as they approached the room I was currently in, the small giggle let me know it was my niece. She had always been a strange child with peculiar sleeping habits, even now at the age of eight, it was well past midnight and she was still wide awake.

"Should you not be asleep?" Isabella asked her. My head snapped up when I heard her voice and our eyes instantly met. All the color drained from her face.

"I'm not tired. And I missed you, Marie. Didn't you miss me?" Sofia asked, batting her little lashes at my wife. But Isabella's attention remained solely on me. She sighed and let out a deep breath. She looked almost defeated as if she was giving up or had given up.

"Marie," Sofia said, tugging on my wife's dress.

"I...What?"

"I asked if you missed me?"

Isabella averted her gaze from me. Offering my niece a small smile, she leaned down to her level.

"Of course I missed you. You're my favorite princess after all. But I do think you need to get to bed," my wife said.

Sofia huffed and gave Isabella a frustrated look before she turned her little head to face me. She looked between the both of us, her head going back and forth a few times before a large grin spread across her face.

"Oh, I get it," she said, as if she had figured out some puzzle. "I know why you want me to go."

The older Sofia became, the more she took after her mother. She was a smart child sometimes too smart for her own good.

"Get to bed," I said, waving her off. I watched her as she ran out of the room laughing, shaking my head.

And then it was just the two of us. An awkward silence fell between us as we stared at each other. I was thankful she was not scared of me, or if she was, she hid it well. But lord knows I wouldn't blame her if she was.

"You finally came down," I said.

"I didn't realise you had missed me."

"I've always missed you," I admitted.

"Good night, Edward," she said, turning on her heel to leave.

"Wait," I said, springing up from my seat. I caught her hand and spun her around to face me, grateful for the fact that she made no attempt to pull out of my grasp.

She stood waiting patiently, looking at me, waiting for my next move, to say something maybe.

I had thought of so many things I wanted to say to her, I had thought about it all day and now that I had her here in front of me I could not think of a single word to say to her.

"Is there something that you wanted?" She asked.

"I..um…" Come on Edward, pull it together, I thought to myself. The more I continued to stare at her, the more words seemed to fail me as if my tongue was tied up. I could not form a single word.

"Let go of me, Edward," she said, pulling her hand out of mine, as if my touch had burned her somehow.

"Dolcezza, please hear me out," I said, trying and failing to reach for her.

"There is nothing that you can say, Edward. Nothing. No justification so do not even try because you will only make yourself look stupid."

"That wasn't me, Isabella," I said, shaking my head.

"No?" She laughed bitterly. "Because it sure as hell looked like you and Anthony is dead, you can't play the switch card."

"I was not myself. I snapped." I tried to justify.

"I am sorry that you snapped," she said sarcastically, throwing her hands up in the air. "I'm sorry that you could not control yourself. I'm sorry that you felt the need to have me watch you kill another man. I'm sorry that you wanted me to do it for you." At this point her voice had become so loud that I was sure they could hear her all the way upstairs. That's what I needed right now, for my father to hear this, to hear her and come down and watch the show, no doubt this would amuse him.

"Lower your voice, please, before you wake everyone up," I said.

"Lower my voice?" She pointed to herself. "I don't think so Edward. Now it's my turn. Now I've snapped."

"Fuck, Isabella, stop this bullshit," I said, irritated more so with myself than her.

She threw her head back with laughter. "Or what? What are you going to do about it Edward?" She asked, taking a few steps in my direction.

"Hmm, what are you going to do? Drag someone else in here and kill them before me? Are you going to hit me?"

"Dolcezza."

"No, you wouldn't do that, would you. You would have your brother or your father do it for you."

"I'm sorry," I said, trying again to reach out for her, but she moved back.

"It's too late for sorry, Edward. Sorry doesn't fix anything. Sorry doesn't fix the image that is stuck in my head," she said as she roughly pointed to her temple. "Sorry doesn't fix that I couldn't even kill myself."

"What the fuck," I yelled at her confession. How the hell could she have even tried to do something like that? How the hell did I not see that, know about that?

"I tried, I really did. But every time I closed my eyes all I saw was Stefan's face and I couldn't, I couldn't do it because I didn't want to see it, to see him and you like that."

She closed her eyes but quickly snapped them back open. She was chewing on her bottom lip as if she thought it might stop her from crying but it was a failed attempt. I tried once more to approach her, thankful that she didn't move away, even more thankful when I had her in my arms.

She put her head on my chest, but that was it. I wrapped my arms around her as tight as I could, never hating myself more than I did in this moment.

"Why did you have to find me?" She asked, so quietly. "Why did you come here to ruin me?"

"I had to find you because I love you."

"No," she said, pushing me away. "No you don't. You're not capable of love Edward, you never were."


	10. Chapter 10

Edited by Stilldreaming85.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Marie Cullen.**

Maybe I was the crazy one. Maybe I was the one with the issues and not them. After all, how was it possible to go from taking someone's life in cold blood to throwing a lavish party as if nothing had happened at all?

Was I missing something? I wasn't sure. There had to be something wrong with me, a reason why I could not relate or see things their way even after all this time.

Carmen had thrown this party every year for many years now. But I had never once had an interest in attending, nor did I now. If it wasn't for Edward, I would be enjoying the night all to myself.

But that is something Edward hadn't done since last night or this morning, and that was leave me alone. I think the admission that I had tried to drown myself had scared him or maybe it had just fueled his motivation. Maybe in his head I wasn't allowed to die. I wasn't allowed the easy way out. It had to be on his terms and on his orders.

No matter what his reasoning or motivations were, I had gotten his message loud and clear.

Stefan was suppose to be Michael. Edward had sent a clear message to me of what he would do to Michael if I were to ever see him again.

I didn't want that for Michael. I didn't want him to die, especially at the hands of Edward and because of me.

If it meant never seeing or speaking to Michael again, then it would all be worth it.

I did like Michael. I did feel something for him, something more than I should, something more than friendship.

I can't lie and say I have not thought about Michael or that I won't miss him. Because I have and I will.

I will miss knowing that at one point I had someone in my life who treated me as if I was no different to anyone else, yet at the same time still managed to make me feel as if I was someone special.

I will miss the way he'd looked at me, as if I were a simple, normal person. That's more than I can say for everyone else in this town. Besides Carmen and Eleazar. Everyone else knew that I was Edward's wife and they did not dare approach me, only if it were necessary and even then it was uncomfortable. One would think I was the grim reaper ready to take their souls. Little did they know that mine had already been destroyed.

But none of it mattered to me because I had found a small amount of happiness in this town, a happiness I knew I would never have been able to find or have in New York.

I had built a new life, a new me and Edward had managed to destroy all that the moment he had tracked me down.

I will never forgive him or Carlisle for what had happened because I could not see a way they could redeem themselves from that.

But I knew that I had to somehow move on. I had to pretend it would all be okay. I had to lie to myself so that I could see a reason to go to bed at night and wake up in the morning.

It will all be okay, I kept repeating to myself over and over. It will all be okay.

I stood in front of the full length mirror, focusing on myself, trying to recognize the person staring back at me.

The red lace dress was beautiful. It was not something if given the opportunity I would have chosen for myself, but Carmen had insisted on it.

I had my hair done and my make up. Dare I say the person staring back at me was almost perfect. Of course she was perfect. All of her flaws were covered with cosmetics and a designer dress.

But it didn't matter what was hidden underneath as long as what was on the surface was immaculate. Because that's what these people were, that's what they did. They masked their true selves and created the illusion of perfection, but underneath it all they were all monsters, criminals and murderers and my husband was the worst of them all. A true manipulator. A true liar. An illusionist.

My husband, the man who now stood behind me dressed in his tuxedo and looking every part the illusion of perfection.

My husband, who looked at me as if I were some sort of fine caviar that he was ready to devour.

He rested one hand on my hip, while stroking my arm with the back of his fingers with the other.

"You look...Beautiful, dolcezza," he whispered in my ear. "Il mio fiore perfetto."

"Thank you," I said, with a nod, wanting and not knowing how to get out of his reach. But he held onto me a little tighter, resting his head on my shoulder. He breathed out a sigh of relief, I think, or maybe he was expecting me to push him away. I didn't know what to do. When he became like this, in this way. It was as if he were a completely different person, someone I didn't know how to handle. But I do wish he would stay like this all the time, but wishes very rarely come true, in fact, they never did.

"One day," he said, looking in my eyes through the mirror. "Maybe, one day I might be worthy of your forgiveness."

"Maybe," I said. It was easier to reassure him with false hope than to let him down with the truth.

"We need to get going or else we are going to be late. I don't think Carmen would forgive us if we were late after all the hard work she has put into tonight," I said as he nodded his head. It didn't escape my attention the way his face and posture changed at the mention of his aunt's name. I wondered why. I wondered what Carmen could have possibly done to upset him or why he was almost defensive around her.

"I had the car brought around to the front," he said, holding his hand out to me. Left without a choice, I reached for his outstretched hand. He gladly wrapped his fingers around my palm, gently tugging me towards him and placing a kiss on the back of my knuckles.

~MINY~

The estate was something to behold. It was more a castle than an estate. I had been here before with Carmen when she was planning the events. It never occurred to me that this massive castle was under the Cullen name. I always thought Carmen would rent it out for the occasion. Imagine my shock when she told me it had been in the family for generations and it now belonged to Carlisle.

Edward didn't pull the car up to the valet. He drove around the side of the massive estate and parked the car outside a mass staircase leading up into the main hallways.

"You don't want anyone to know you're here or you don't want someone to see you with me?" I asked, getting out of the car as soon as he had stopped the engine. Not giving him the chance to open the door for me like he had wanted.

"That is a very stupid thing to say, Isabella. Why would I not want to be seen with you?"

I shrugged. I could think of a few reasons why, but none that I wanted to say out loud. "It seems like you are trying to hide something."

"I don't like waiting for my car at the end of the night, and if the need be, it is also a quick getaway," he said.

"Are you going to need a getaway tonight?"

"Let's hope not. But I do not like to be caught off guard."

"No, we wouldn't want that," I said, letting him take my hand as he guided us up the stairs and inside the estate. The soft music from the ballroom could be heard all the way from here.

No matter how many times I had been here with Carmen, it still took my breath away. The place was beautiful. Every corner, every wall, every turn, there was something new to discover. A new painting, a sculpture, even the door handles were crafted to perfection. But walking down these halls with Edward, the place didn't seem as beautiful as I had once thought. It was only a perfect illusion just like they were.

"Please don't leave my side tonight," he said.

I didn't answer him, not verbally. I nodded my head to show him that I had both heard and understood him. He seemed pleased with that.

"Marie, look at how beautiful you are," Esme said, approaching us. She lightly shoved Edward out of the way and kissed me on both my cheeks.

"Thank you," I said.

"You never came down last night to greet Rosalie and Emmett. They were looking forward to seeing you again, Sofia as well. Apparently she talked about her zia Marie the whole flight."

"Oh mother, leave her alone. We did arrive late," Rosalie said. She was every bit as beautiful as the last time I had seen her. "But my daughter did tell me she found you last night. Thank you for sending her to bed by the way." Rosalie followed after her mother and kissed both my cheeks as did Emmett.

"I'm sorry I didn't come down to greet you, I was a little..." I trailed off.

"That's alright. It is good to see you though, Marie," Emmett said.

"Thank you, Emmett. It's good to see you both as well, and Sofia. I cannot believe how big she had gotten."

"Come on, come with me. I will introduce you around," Esme said, linking her arm with mine. I did not care who she wanted to introduce me to or even where she was taking me as long as there would be some distance between Edward and me.

"Mamma, no," Edward warned. For a moment I thought Esme would give into his warning. But she brushed him off as she led me away.

Esme never introduced me to anyone. We walked around the room. Occasionally she would stop and pick up a new glass of champagne and then we were on our way again. People would nod as we walked by them, stop and raise their glasses, but no one was willing to say a word to us. It was frustrating, annoying even. I felt like a puppet on a string, a doll on display.

"Are you going to introduce me to anyone or are you only going to parade me around as if I am some sort of possession?" I asked her, after having enough of her antics. But Esme didn't seem bothered by my tone or maybe it was that she's had one too many glasses of champagne and it was all neutral to her now.

"I thought you could use a break from Edward. I know he has been glued to your side all day. I know how frustrating that can be. Carlisle has done the same to me on more than one occasion. I wanted to kill him after the first few hours," she said with a wide smile.

"I cannot say the thought of killing Edward has not crossed my mind today," I admitted.

"I know what happened and I am sorry that you had to witness that. But sometimes…"

"You know what, Esme, I don't want to talk about it," I said, unlinking her arm from mine.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"You haven't upset me, Esme."

She offered me a sad, apologetic smile as she tucked a loose piece of hair behind my ear.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I said, making an excuse to leave.

"I'll show you," she said.

"I know where it is."

I left Esme and went straight to the bar. "Qualcosa forte," I said to the bartender.

"Si signora," he said, pulling out a bottle and pouring my drink. "Ecco qui."

"Grazie." I took a swig of the amber liquor, welcoming to burn it left down my throat. It was strong, but not strong enough.

I turned around and watched those around me. This was like nothing I had ever seen before. This could not be real. I was in a room full of criminals all family and friends and associates of the family, yet they were acting as if they were royalty.

"Pathetic," I whispered to myself.

Through the mass of people, a face stood out to me, but it could not be. What could he be doing here? If Edward were to see Michael, he would surely kill him and I am sure half if not all those in this room would help him.

And just like that he was no longer there. But I was certain it was him. His piercing eyes were hard to misplace.

I got up and made my way over to the other side where I had seen him down next to the hallway. But there was no one here that resembled him at all. I sighed, closing my eyes. I was starting to see things. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me because I had been thinking about him all day, maybe.

I sighed again as I opened my eyes and looked through the room of people. All around me the music played and people danced and laughed. They were completely unaware.

I gasped out loud, my breath catching of the back on my throat when I noticed the red dot skip across his forehead.

I didn't know where Edward was, or even Carlisle and Esme. I didn't have a chance to warm them, I didn't even have a chance to scream.

At the stroke of midnight all hell broke loose.


	11. Chapter 11

Edited by Stilldreaming85.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Edward Cullen.**

I watched her from afar. I knew that she would be perfectly fine here and with my mother, but that did not ease the nerves that she was not by my side.

I could not pay attention to what those around me were saying. I did not partake in the conversations started even though I knew they were directed at me.

I had one focus and one focus alone, her.

It was fascinating to watch the way she would interact with others. The way her brows would knit together.

The way her facial expressions changed at something she liked or didn't like or at someone.

The way she bit the inside of her lip when frustrated or confused.

She was by no means perfect, none of us were. But she was my vision of perfection.

I do love her. No matter how many times she claims I don't. She does not know what is in my head and in my heart.

I do love her, because if it wasn't love that I felt then what the hell was it?

"You seem distracted tonight, mio figlio," my father said, as he handed me another drink.

"What?"

He snickered as he took a swig of his glass. "You know where your attention needs to be."

"I am well aware where my attention needs to be. I do not need you to remind me," I snapped.

"Then stop staring at her as if she is about to disappear and focus your attention to those around you."

"You know all about making her disappear, don't you."

"Are we back to this again?" He asked, clearly irritated that I had brought this up once more. I do not think he will ever be over the fact that I uncovered his secret.

"I hadn't realized we had ever taken a step off."

"I owe you no explanation, Edward, and no apology. You can hate me all you like, but all I did was attempt to fix the mess you and your brother created."

"As your Don, you do owe me an explanation," I said.

"I am your father. Do not attempt to pull that on me," he said.

"And I am your boss." I shrugged. "This was the role that you handed down to me, the life you wanted me to have. Blood or not, if I say jump, then you fucking jump because I own you," I said, watching as the vein in his neck began to bulge. His face stained red and his hand balled into a fist while the other was about to break the glass at any moment.

"Amore."

I heard the one voice I did not want to hear. It was a face I had not seen since the incident a few days ago. A face I would have been grateful to never see again.

My father's bitterness suddenly faded, replaced by a sly smirk as Janina approached us.

This was not what I needed right now. It was not what I wanted Isabella to see, me with her, after everything. I hoped she wouldn't turn around. I prayed she would not see this.

Janina put her hand on my chest and leaned her head in as if she was expecting me to kiss her.

I gripped her wrist roughly and shoved her away, not caring if those close to me saw wt I was doing, or what they thought about it.

I have said it time and time again, but Janina was a mistake that should have never happened. A lapse in my judgment that I wish at the time I could have controlled. There were plenty of other ways for me to get what I wanted from Janina and Leo without her having to warm my bed.

We had always suspected that it was Leo who had taken the money from my father's Monte Carlo account.

At the time that Leo was shoving his daughter in my face, was also around the time the money had started to go missing. Little bits at first, nothing too noticeable. But the amounts grew larger and larger over time.

Leo was a slightly stupid man in that he gave his daughter access to all his accounts. I thought if I could get to her, I could have her hand me the accounts. That was the easy part, she did do it, but I didn't find what I was looking for.

I could have taken them out right then and there, but my father insisted that it would not have been the best of plans. He wanted his money back and I wanted to know how the hell Leo had done it, how he had made all that money disappear. From the moment it had left my father's account, it became untraceable, the bank itself could not retrieve it.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I spat.

"I was invited," she said defensively. Janina did not take rejection very well.

"Where is your father?" My father asked, looking around the room for any sign of Leo.

"He is around here somewhere," she said. "But amore, you owe me a dance."

"I owe you a bullet to the head for the stunt you pulled the other day," I said, placing my glass down on the table beside me.

"Do not be so dramatic," she said, licking her lips. "Do not pretend you did not like it. I know better, amore."

"You would be very wise to turn around and leave right now," I said, taking a deliberate step towards. She made no move at all. She showed no fear. My father had put his hand on my shoulder pulling me slightly back and away from her. It was a very good move on his part because if I would have gotten my hands on her right now, I would not have stopped until she had no breath left in her.

"Janina, why don't you…" My father started but his sentence was interrupted by the sound of gunshots coming from all around us. People dropped to the ground, covering their heads and trying to find shelter from the shower of bullets.

There were four of them, possibly more, but only four that I could clearly see. I pulled both my guns out of their holster.

Our men had already taken them out but not before they had managed to do some damage. There had to be more of them, I was sure of it. No one would ambush us with only four men, not unless they were stupid.

I saw Isabella on the other side of the room as she took in the horror around her.

"Don't let go of her," I told my father. I don't know who was stupid enough to do this. I doubt that Leo was, but I was not going to take that chance.

I ran up to my wife as those around us frantically tried to get out. I reached her and pulled her to me.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I asked, looking her up and down for any sign that she might be injured and was so thankful that I could not find any.

"Eleazar," she said, her attention on the large doors leading out onto the balcony. I followed her gaze to see my uncle on the floor with a hole in his head. His eyes wide open as my mother tried to pull Carmen away.

As quickly as the gunfire had died, it had returned, only this time it was directed in our direction. I covered Isabella with my own body and managed to get us out of the ballroom unharmed.

"We need to get out of here," I said. Whoever this was, they were after me, or her, or maybe both of us.

"What about everyone else?"

"Don't worry about them. Whoever this is, they are coming after us."

We reached my car. I took the keys and threw them to her, as I went around to the trunk and removed my rifle and an AK-47.

"Get in the car already," I yelled at her.

"Are you out of your mind? What the hell are you doing with those?" She yelled.

"Shh, keep your voice down. Now is not the best time, Isabella." No one had spotted us yet and with a little luck, we might be able to make it out of here before they see us.

"What the hell is going on, Edward? Who are they? Why were they shooting at us?"

"Not now. We need to get out of here," I said, climbing into the passenger seat. Gun shots rang out behind us. They were getting closer.

"Damn it, Isabella, get in the fucking car. I can't shoot and drive at the same time," I yelled, as she fumbled with the keys. "Get in the damn car." What part of our lives were in danger did she not understand?

She finally climbed in, but not before our friends had caught up with us. They sprayed us with bullets as Isabella started the car and drove us away from them. I just prayed they had not taken a tyre out.

"Where am I going?" She asked.

"Out the front gates and left onto the main road," I said. She nodded, taking a few deep breaths. I was proud of her that she was holding herself together right because I knew the moment we were safe and out of this car she would fall to bits. But right now she was out only way to safety.

The car pulled out of the estate and onto the main road. So far there was no one around. But I was not going to celebrate just yet. I knew we weren't out of the clear just yet, not until we reached the safe house.

No sooner had I thought that luck might be on our side, a car appeared behind us and it was coming fast.

"What do I do?" Isabella asked frantically.

"Keep your hands steady on the wheel," I said, as I loaded my rifle. "They are going to rear end us. Don't slow down or lose your grip or you are going to spin this car."

"We are going die," she cried.

"We are not going to fucking die, not tonight." I got my rifle ready and opened the sunroof waiting for them to get closer so that I could have a clearer shot. "Keep your eyes on the road and speed up," I said, as the car behind us got closer.

They managed to rear end us before I could get a clean shot. The car was dark and their lights were off. There were no street lights on these roads so having a clear visual was almost impossible. But Isabella had been amazing, she did what I said and managed to keep control of the car even as they were trying to run us off the road.

There were four of them in the car. I managed to take out the front passenger when he stuck his head out the window.

"Docezza, I need you to go faster," I said. They were too close to us for me to get their tyres and that was about the only option I had if we were going to lose them.

She sped up, but they kept up, bumper on bumper. I needed to lose them before we reached the town or we would never make it to the safe house.

"God damn it, Isabella. Fucking floor it," I yelled. And she did. The car jerked forward and so did I. The rifle slipping out of my hands. I fumbled to pick it up and climbed out the sunroof aiming it at there tyers. I had taken one out and that was enough to slow them down and give us the advantage to lose them.

We had put some distance between us and them. I fumbled for my phone in my jacket. I messaged my father, telling him of our location and to send someone out to collect them or what was left of them. Hopefully they will still be there when our men reached them.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Did we lose them?"

"Yeah, we did."

"Where am I going now?"

"Drive into town and around the back of your studio," I said.

I didn't know who did this. We weren't at war with anyone. I wasn't at war with anyone. They had come after me, after us...After us?


	12. Chapter 12

Edited by Stilldreaming85.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Marie Cullen.

I was curious, fascinated even as to why someone would choose this sort of life for themselves, for their families. To live with eyes in the back of your head, watching, waiting for an attack or to attack.

Why? What was the point of it all?

Money?

Glory?

What glory could possibly come from destruction, from conning and cheating? From destroying innocent lives?

We had almost been killed because of the life Edward and his family lived. Chased and gunned down, and all for what?

It had been days since then. Days since we have all been stuck down here in the safe house as Edward had called it. But to me it was more a hell than a safe haven.

No one spoke of what had happened, not to me at least. Edward and his father along with Emmett, would lock themselves in a separate room, sometimes for hours on end, discussing they claimed, their next step whatever that meant.

I felt as if I were beginning to slowly lose my mind. Being down here brought back memories of my time in Anthony's underworld, their secret hideout. It made my mind wander to a place I had thought I had safely locked away. Being in this place brought back memories that I didn't know how to deal with anymore and thought I never would have to again.

The only thing stopping me from going insane and slipping into that darkness was Sofia.

She had so much energy and was so carefree, it was infectious. It was impossible not to be happy around her. But even she didn't take to kindly to being trapped down here. Having a tantrum almost daily, sometimes two, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. What she wanted they claimed to be impossible right now. She wanted just like me to get out of here, to be free.

Carmen was...She was holding up better than I or anyone expected. She had seen her husband murdered right before her eyes and yet she wasn't, or she didn't appear affected. She was mourning, yes. Maybe this was another one of those things I didn't understand, something that only they could. They were used to so much death, Eleazar was probably just another casualty even to his widow.

"Marie, can you make me a sandwich, please?" Sofia asked. She and I had been sharing a room, well, she may have kicked Edward out of this room and I was very grateful to her for that. I don't think I would have been able to sleep in the same bed as him.

I left Sofia on the bed to finish her movie and went out into the main area where the kitchenette was to make her something to eat. I was almost finished cutting her sandwich into small triangles when a hushed whisper caught my attention. It was dead quiet out in this area. Edward and Carlisle had gone into town. Emmett was with Rosalie in their room. The only other people down here were Esme and Carmen.

I left Sofia's sandwich on the bench and carefully tiptoed in the direction of the hushed voice, it came from behind the door of the room that Edward had been using as an office.

It was Carmen's voice. It sounded as if she was on the phone to someone. What was she thinking? Edward had said no phone calls down here. There wasn't even any wifi.

"I need to know it's taken care of," she whispered loudly. "Yes. I know. Don't worry about that, I have it all under control. Do what you are suppose to do and I will take care of the rest when the time comes."

The conversation sounded strange. She appeared to be angry with whoever it was she was speaking with.

"I have to go. They will be back soon. Do not forget," she said.

I jumped away from the door and made my way back to the kitchenette as quietly as I could. Carmen came out of the office. She looked surprised to see me, almost nervous.

"Hey, what are you doing out here. I thought everyone was asleep," I said, playing dumb and hoping that she would buy it.

"I cannot seem to sleep. I asked my brother to pick me up some pills. I came to see if they were back," she said. "What are you doing?" She eyed me suspiciously.

"Sofia's hungry. I came to get her something to eat," I said, holding out the tray for her to see.

"Oh." She appeared almost relieved.

"Are you sure you are alright, Carmen? You know I'm here if you need someone."

"I think I am still in shock with what has happened. I have to plan a funeral for my husband yet I am expecting him to walk through the door," she said.

Of course, that's what she had to be doing. How stupid could I have been to think she was up to something. I put the tray back down on the bench and went over and hugged her tight. She was holding up remarkably well, but slowly, very slowly she was starting to crack.

We stood here for the longest time with her crying on my shoulder and me rubbing her back. I think she just needed to let it all out. It was the opening of the heavy cast iron doors that made us both jump.

Carlisle and Edward were back. Carlisle's hands looked like they had seen better days. They were red and covered in blood, blood that I knew didn't belong to him.

"I am going to go and take a shower," he said excusing himself.

"I think...I think I am tired now," Carmen said. "Thank you, Marie."

And then it was us, Edward and I. I didn't know what to say to him. We hadn't really spoken since that night, Sofia had always been in the way.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"What was that all about?"

"Carmen?" I asked. "I was comforting her. It's not easy for her to plan a funeral when she hasn't come to terms with the fact that her husband is dead."

"The funeral is already taken care of. It's tomorrow morning and we are leaving after that."

"Where are we going?"

"Back to New York," he said, as he walked by me and kissed me on the cheek.

And just like that I felt like the walls were closing in around me. Back to New York, had I heard him correct? No. There was no way. It was not possible. I couldn't, he wouldn't. He can't make me go, I won't.

"No. No. No," I said, shaking my head.

"No, what?" He asked, as he held onto my arms, trying to get me to look at him.

"I can't go to New York. I can't go back there."

Going back to New York would mean giving up what freedom I had here. I could not do that. I could not live like that again, like his prisoner. What would be the point to continue living?

"We can't stay here, Isabella," he said.

"You go then. You go back and leave me here," I begged, trying to free myself from him.

"I cannot do that, dolcezza. It's not safe here. Carmen's house was burned to the ground."

I covered my mouth, not believing what I was hearing. Burnt to the ground. Someone was really after us. Someone was trying to kill us, kill them.

"I need you safe, Isabella and that means taking you back to New York."

I closed my eyes and let myself cry. For the first time since all of this happened, I cried, I let it all out. I didn't know what I was more upset or angry about. Eleazar's death, the one man in this family that welcomed me into his home and treated me as if I were his own child. Killed, gone.

Or Edward wanting me to go back home.

New York was a place I never thought I would ever set foot in again. I knew what going back there would mean and I also knew that I had no choice.

It was a slap to the face.

"Everything is going to be alright, dolcezza," Edward comforted, as he wiped my tears away with his thumbs.

"Please, I'm begging you. If you love me as much as you say you do, don't take me back there. I can't go back to being Isabella, Edward. I can't go back to being a prisoner," I cried. I didn't know how long I cried or how long we stood there, how long I let him hold me. I had been bottling everything inside since that day in the office and I guess now it all came flooding out. Everything was too powerful, too overwhelming. My mind didn't know how to deal with it.

At one point Edward had moved us to the couch. I lay there with my head in his lap, accepting whatever comfort he was willing to give me. I must have fallen asleep at some point. When I woke up I was in bed with Edward and Sofia was in between us.

I carefully climbed out of bed, trying not to disturb them both and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.I splashed some cold water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes were puffy and red and I looked like I hadn't slept in days despite feeling well rested.

I tried not to recognize the person staring back at me. I didn't want to be that person again. I was Marie now. I was no longer Isabella and if I went to New York that is exactly who I would be. The scared little girl caught up in her father's mistakes.


	13. Chapter 13

**Edited by Stilldreaming85.**

 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 **Edward Cullen.**

I didn't want to hurt her, but I was left without any other choice. I could not leave her in Ragusa, it was not safe.

Leo had disappeared right from under our noses and Janina, well she was of no help. No matter what she said, I didn't believe her. She may not know where her father is now, but Leo is bound to make contact with her sooner or later.

The way I saw it, in order to catch a fool I had to act the fool. And so with that, I let Janian free, much to my father's disapproval.

I hadn't hurt Jania while she was in our basements, but I did have to knock her out. It was a necessary means in order to keep track of her and have her lead us to Leo. I had a chip inserted into her back below her shoulder just before the curve of her underarm.

Janina did not disappoint. The first thing she did when let free, she caught the first flight to Rome and then out to the States.

But that meant nothing. It didn't mean that Leo was there, but it was still a step ahead for us.

Leo hadn't disappeared without a bang. Carmen and Eleazar house had been reduced to nothing but rubble and ash. We were told it was a drive by. They had driven through the fence and thrown bombs inside. The explosions so powerful it shattered the windows of the surrounding homes.

They had to have thought we were there, thought it would be an easy kill. Finish the job that they couldn't have done the night before.

The arrangements had been made. We had to head back to New York, regardless if Isabella liked it or not. But this wasn't about liking or disliking, it was about safety and keeping her, and all of us safe.

Clearly we had underestimated Leo and whoever it was he was working with. It was pathetic and worrying at the same time. People knew their places, they knew not to mess or cross a line with us. But money is a son of a bitch, it can turn anyone into a cold blooded killer. If offered the right price, anyone could betray us. But I knew it was an inside job. Whoever had helped or was helping Leo, it was someone close to us, very close to us to be able to get in undetected the way they had.

 **~MINY~**

Eleazar's funeral had been a quick event. It was over just as quick as it had begun. That did not mean we did not pay our respects, we just had a time limit to stick to. Our jet could only flight out at a certain time and if we did not meet that time, we had to wait another twelve hours until we would be cleared for departure.

I had had an array of men surrounding us at the cemetery. Carmen and my father had even taken to wearing bulletproof vests underneath their clothing. Although I found that to be a step too far, I kept my opinion to myself and let them be.

"Che riposi in pace," the priest said as he sprinkled a handful of dirt on Eleazar's coffin.

One by one, we all made our way past him to pay our final goodbye and lay a yellow carnation atop his coffin.

Carmen was holding herself well, too well if you ask me. She appeared heartbroken, yet she did not have a single tear in her eyes.

I remember my father had stopped and picked up some pills for her yesterday. I did not ask what they were, frankly, I did not care. But whatever it was she had taken, they were keeping her calm and for that I was grateful. The last thing any of us needed today was to deal with a hysterical, crying woman.

"It's time to go," my father said to his sister.

Carmen did not turn around or acknowledge him at all. My father put his arm around his sister's shoulder and pulled her closer to him. They stood there together as they watched the coffin lower into the ground.

A silence fell all around us. It was so quiet all that could be heard was the shoveling of the dirt filling the grave.

I glanced over at my mother, wondering what must be going through her head, what she must be feeling. She appeared distant, off in her own world, physically here but mentally not.

The last funeral she had attended had been her own son's.

A wave of guilt washed over me as I thought about my brother and stared at my mother. But there was nothing I could do about it. Things were just better this way, for now at least.

We had finally left and were on our way to the airport. Isabella had been quiet the entire morning. Not even my niece could stir a conversation with her.

It was unsettling seeing her in this state, with a blank expression on her face and in her eyes. There had only been one other time she had appeared this lost, in this state. I don't know why it bothered me more now than it had then.

I was not taking her back to New York to be my prisoner. I was not going to lock her away or hide her anywhere. She would be free, well as free as I could let her be for the time being. Until everything was sorted out and we had dealt with this whole situation, there would always be someone with her. It wasn't about me keeping a track of her, or keeping her under the radar. It was about her safety only.

If someone wanted to get to me, they would think to get to her first and I would not leave her an easy target.

She began to fidget as the car came to a stop on the tarmac. Her fingernails were digging into the palms of her hands. It wouldn't have surprised me if she had drawn blood.

"Hey," I said, putting my hands over both of hers, hoping that I could stop her from hurting herself. "Look at me," I demanded, but she wasn't quick to follow. I placed my hand on her cheek and turned her to face me, removing her glasses.

"I promise you, everything is going to be okay." She scoffed at me, pushing my hands away. "Isabella, please."

"You have made me so many promises, and yet you are not capable of keeping one," she said, turning her head away from me. "Let's just go."

She tried to open the door, but it had been blocked by our driver only to open when I gave the order.

"Why are you doing this to me?" She asked, as she pounded on the door.

"What am I doing to you right now, dolcezza?'

"You are taking me back there."

"I don't have another choice. You are not safe here. Can you not understand that?" I tried to reason with her. I hoped she would get on the plane peacefully. I hoped she would not put up a fight.

"I am perfectly safe here. It's you they are after," she yelled, turning her whole body back in my direction.

"Everything was fine, we were all fine. No one was trying to kill us until you came here. You brought all this destruction with you."

Maybe there was some truth to what she had said. Maybe it was me, my presence here that had brought all of this on. Or maybe it had always been their plan and my timing was only coincidental.

"It's all your fault." She cried, softy. "If you wouldn't have come, Eleazar would still be alive."

"That's not how it works, dolcezza."

She sighed, sounding defeated. She looked defeated, drained as if she had no willingness to fight anymore.

"Let me out of the car, Edward. I'm not going to run into the airport. I'll get on the plane. I'll go where you want me to go and be who you want me to be."


	14. Chapter 14

**Edited by Stilldreaming85.**

 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 **Isabella Cullen.**

 **New York City, New York,**

 **United States Of America.**

New York was exactly the same as I remembered it, yet at the same time, it was different. Or maybe it was just me who was different. I did not see things in the same light as I had once used to.

I was a different person from the one that had left three years ago,

The city offered me no comfort as Ragusa had. The air was heavily polluted here, no longer crisp and clean. Concrete buildings covered the blue sky. Any beauty this city once held was now depressing.

I had to laugh at myself that I had once thought this to be a beautiful place. There was no beauty here, only painful memories.

I felt as if someone had knocked the breath out of me the moment I stepped off the plane. It was painful, too painful. The Manhattan air that now filled my lungs, also filled my head with painful thoughts that I struggled to push aside.

As I made my way down the stairs and onto the tarmac, a figure caught my eye. Someone I recognised, someone I knew well, someone I was greatful was not dead.

Garrett. He leaned casually against the black SUV with his aviators on and arms folded.

An overwhelming sense of relief washing over me. Seeing Garrett here, now, alive, somehow gave me hope that maybe things weren't going to be that bad, that maybe they might be okay.

I gave no thought to my next action. I untangled my fingers from Edward's and ran towards Garrett. I didn't give him a chance to react. I leapt into his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He hesitated, before he hugged me back, his hands on my upper back.

"I thought you were dead," I said. I refused to let go of him. I had spent three years wondering what had happened to him after I left. I knew Edward would somehow blame him and I never trusted that he hadn't killed him.

"I'm going to be if you don't let go of me," he said.

He was right. In my excitement and utter relief of seeing him, I had forgotten of everyone around us, including Edward.

"Sorry," I said, as I untangled my legs from around his waist and settled myself back on the ground. I kissed him on the cheek taking him by surprise.

"You really are trying to have me killed, aren't you," he said, no joke at all in his tone.

"He won't do anything. I won't let him." He didn't buy it and to be honest neither did I. It's not like I would have any power to stop Edward or any of them.

Garrett shook his head as he stepped around me and opened the back doors of the SUV. With complete hesitation, I turned around and looked at Edward. If this were a cartoon, steam would be shooting out of his nose and his ears. Carlisle didn't look any better either.

How could I have been so stupid as not to think before I acted. Edward wouldn't see my reason behind it, I was certain of that. He would only see that I had jumped into another man's arms while he and his family watched on.

Our bags now loaded. Everyone else had already left in another waiting car, it was just the three of us. Garrett was standing by, waiting for us to climb in something that I was putting off doing for as long as I could.

Edward came up behind me and with his hand on the small of my back, gently pushed me in before climbing in himself, Garrett shut his door for him.

As the car roared to life, Edward fiddled with a few buttons on his door panel. Moments later a privacy screen lifted between us and the driver trapping me in here with him and without any witnesses. I knew things were about to go from bad to worse with Edward.

"I wish you would have had that reaction when you saw me after all that time," he said.

"Him, I was excited to see. You, not so much."

"And why was my wife that excited to see another man that she would jump in his arms?" He asked. He was very calm right now and I didn't know what to make of it. Was this the calm before the storm? Was he trying to trap me with a false hope that everything was okay before taking that all away?

"I thought he was dead. I thought you had killed him."

"Don't ever do that again," he said. The warning was there clear as day in his voice.

"You're not going to hurt him, are you?"

"That's not your concern."

"Yes, it is. He did nothing wrong. You can't punish him because I was happy to see him. It's not fair."

"Life's not fair, dolcezza."

That statement had never been truer. I was living proof of that. My life was not fair. My life, my hopes and my dreams had been taken away from me, murdered by the man beside me and his family. But I held my tongue.

Edward lowered the privacy screen between us and began a conversation with Garrett. I didn't understand a word of their conversation. Although they spoke in English, their conversation was clearly coded.

As I looked at Garrett from behind, there was one thing about him now that I was sure had not been there before. A large scar on his arm, going from under his t-shirt to down and around his elbow. I looked between the scar and Edward, wondering if it was him who had hurt Garrett in that way, although I knew the answer.

 **~MINY~**

Yesterday had all been a blur. After we arrived at Edward's place I must have passed out. I guess I did not realise how tired I was. I remember walking into the apartment but nothing after that.

I had woken up in bed, the jeans and t'shirt I had on yesterday had been replaced with a pair of sleep shorts and singlet. Edward must have changed me. That thought irritated me. How dare he do that. I had not given him permission to touch me, see me in that way.

I saw a door in the bedroom opened leading to a bathroom. I quickly used it before I made my way out. This was a new appartment. It appeared bigger than his last one.

I Made my through the place and down the stairs where a large open plan living area awaited.

I saw Garrett in the kitchen making coffee.

"Can you make me one as well, please?" I asked.

"Good morning." He smiled.

I sat on the stool at the kitchen bench trying my best to study every part of Garrett, to see if he had any injuries or bruises that he did not have yesterday. There was nothing on him that I could see.

"Here," he said, putting the cup of coffee in front of me. "Are you hungry?"

"Where's Edward?"

"He had to leave early. But he said he will be back for lunch."

"Right." I nodded. "He didn't...He didn't do anything to you, did he?" I asked. Almost afraid of his answer.

"No."

"Good." I smiled. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I wasn't thinking. I was really happy to see you."

"Don't worry about it. If it means anything. It's good to see you."

I picked my coffee cup up and went over to to the balcony in front of the dining room. Although it was late October, the weather was still warm. I sat on the small outdoor setting tucking my legs under myself.

The warm breeze felt nice out here, but I had forgotten how noisy the city could be. Down below cars could be heard blaring their horns, tires screeching and sirens rand loud.

I wondered where Edward was and how much truth there had been in his words. He said I wasn't coming back here to be his prisoner. I wondered if I walked out the door right now, what would Garrett do? Would he follow me or restrain me?

"What has you so deep in thought?" Garrett said. I hadn't heard him come outside after me much less seen him sit down beside me.

"Stuff," I said.

"Like?"

"Is this in your job description now? Find out what I'm thinking? Play detective for him?"

I don't remember Garrett ever being interested in anything that I felt or did or thought. I could not help wonder that maybe Edward had put him up to ask me questions that he knew I would have never answered for him.

"I'm trying to make conversation with you. I have thought about you for the past three years," he said.

"You've thought about me?"

"Yeah, I have. I wondered if Mr Cullen had been true to his word. I won't lie, I thought he took you somewhere to have you killed and I let it happen. I spent three years not knowing if I had let you go with him to your death."

"I guess that makes two of us."

"How so?" He asked, with a frown in his brow.

"I spent the last few years not knowing if Edward had killed you for my disappearance. I'm sorry that I did that. I'm sorry that I left and let you face him. It wasn't fair of me."

"No harm done. I'm still alive," he said.

He wore another t'shirt today, another opportunity for me to see his scar and now that he sat closer to me I was able to see the true extent of the damage that had been done.

"Except your arm," I pointed out. "What did he do to you?" Was I that sick that I wanted to know of the pain he has suffered because of me.

"What makes you think it was him that did this to me?"

"Please, I'm not stupid. What happened."

"Nothing that I didn't deserve," he said, letting out a deep sigh.

"You didn't deserve that."

"I let you go, Isabella. It didn't matter who it was with. My job was to keep you with me at all times and I failed."

"You didn't fail," I said. Not caring, I leaned over and wrapped my arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for what you did. I got to have three years of freedom because of you."

"I'm surprised he found you."

"Hey, can you take me that pastry shop on the corner of Bleeker?" I asked.

"Sorry, I can't do that," he said.

"Of course you can't." I should have known better. It should not have come as a surprise to me that Edward had lied. Not his prisoner, yeah right. I threw my coffee cup at the concrete wall. I don't know why I was so angry, I knew this would happen. I knew that every word out of his mouth had been a lie. But still, I held onto that little glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe he was telling me the truth. How stupid could I have been to have any hope even after everything.

"Hey, it's not permanent. Only for today," Garrett said. I laughed at him. Because if believed that, than he was just as stupid as me for even holding onto any hope.

"Things weren't bad only in Sicily. Things were bad here as well."

"What do mean?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it. But he's not going to keep your locked in here. Just today. Tomorrow I can take you wherever you want, but for day you need to let him do what he needs to do."

"What happened here, Garrett. I have a right to know. It now involves me as well."

"Victoria's was targeted," he said.

"What does that mean, targeted? Is she okay?" I asked. Victoria my friend. Victoria had helped me when she had no reason to.

"The place was raided by the feds a few hours after the shooting in Sicily."

"And the two are related how?" What did the shooting at the ball and Eleazar's death have to do with a federal raid on Victoria.

"I don't have that sort of information, but obviously Edward thinks they are connected. The person that orchestrated the shooting also set up the raid."

"Is Victoria okay?"

"She's still in jail. They are working on getting her out."

This was madness. Edward said we had to come to New York because it was safer.

How was it safer if he thought both incidents were set up by the same person? Who ever had tried to kill us in Ragusa was also in New York. He lied to me yet again.


	15. Chapter 15

**Edited by Stilldreaming85.**

 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 **Edward Cullen.**

Marco Moretti was a powerful man. He was the sort of man that demanded respect the moment he walked into a room. He was feared man. But no matter the power Marco thought he had, or the fear others held for him, he was nothing compared to me, compared to us.

He was feared, but I was feared worse. He held power, but I held it all, and I had only become more vicious over the last three years, but anger and betrayal did that to you. It will take you and mold you into the perfect monster until you don't recognize the reflection staring back at you.

I should have refused to the sit down with Marco, but curiosity got the better of me.

I knew I should have gone home instead. It would be the fourth night now that I had been away.

I've spoken with Garrett over the phone and he assures me she is fine, but I'm not buying it. She refuses to speak to me whenever I ask for her and I can't say I blame her. I had done what I said I would not do. I had taken her from Ragusa, taken her from her freedom and locked her up in my house. I had broken my promise to her yet again and what was worse is I left her alone.

I hated myself for doing it, for breaking my promise to her. There was no doubt she hated me more.

The way things were, were just the way things were. I didn't have anyone to blame but myself for the mess I was trying to sort out now. When I ran off to Ragusa, I had left my work, I left everything behind unfinished and now I needed to sort it all out before things got any more out of control.

I thought with Emmett helping me, I could work through things quicker, but there was more to do, more mess to sort out than I had first anticipated and before I knew it twenty-four hours had gone by and then thirty-six and now ninety-six. But it was easy to lose track of time down here underground. It was easy to forget what day it was, if it was morning or night, because to those that came down here, time did not matter.

"Marcos's arrived," Emmett said, popping his head into my office.

"Alright," I said. I had been down here in my office all day, or what I assumed was all day, trying to figure out what to do with Victoria and the rest of the girls. I had a location in mind, but that would be plan b if I could not come up with anything else.

I had someone here who had been helping me. They could have done this themselves, but refused to. This person was beginning to get on my last nerve, but right now I needed them to sort this mess out.

"Want me to go in your place?" They asked.

"Funny," I said. "Fix this shit up." I picked the file up and put it in front of them more roughly than I had intended to, causing the papers inside the sprawl out.

'Now look what you've done. You're moody this evening."

I flipped them off as I picked my jacket up and headed out the door.

"You know you've got to do something about that," Emmett said, motioning with his head towards my office door.

"Not now." That was not a problem I wanted to deal with right now. It was not even a problem more of an inconvenience I could not get rid of.

I had arranged for Marco to meet us at the Russian Tea Room, which so happened to be conveniently located atop of my underworld, part of it at least.

Funny, to the outside world Italian's meeting in a Russian restaurant in what they believed to be their territory would have been a cause for concern, Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if this would leave the feds scratching their heads. I wondered what they had to be thinking as they sat in their car across the road.

But what no one knew about the Russian's and us, I had a deal with them, if you want to look at it that way. We helped each other out, you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours. I like to keep my enemies on my right side, close.

Emmett and I along with two of my security walked into the empty restaurant. I had contacted Vlad earlier, I told him I needed a little privacy. He was happy to clear the place out for us and close it down for the night, that and Vlad did not particularly like Marco ever since he found out that Marco's son was sleeping with his niece.

"My friend, how have you been?" Vlad greeted me, shaking my hand and kissing my cheeks.

"I've been better," I said.

"Haven't we all." He laughed as he leaned in close to my ear. "If you need an extra hand, you give me the sign, I have people all around."

"Will do my friend."

Leaving Vlad, Emmett and I made our way to the last table in the back. My father was already there, so were a few others. Marco had come prepared, he was surrounded by his own men. It still amused me to think he thought he could be safe with someone like me no matter the effort he put in.

"You are late," he said.

"So I am." I shrugged out of my jacket and sat down next to my father.

"Are you doing business with the Russian's?" Marco asked. "That's...rather interesting."

"Let's not waste time with small talk, Marco," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "You asked for my time, here I am, talk."

He didn't take to kindly to my tone. Marco lived by old traditions. He was the head of his family and that's how it would be until he died, which is why he refused to hand over the reigns to his son. Marco was only a few years older than my father and he believed that with age came respect. That might be the reason he did not take too kindly to me. I was younger than his son after all.

"Leo approached me," he said, watching my reaction carefully.

"And."

"And he asked for my family's protection."

"Did you offer it to him?" My father asked.

"I wanted to speak here first before I made my decision."

"Wherever you offer Leo protection or not, is not my concern," I said. "However, you're aware of the consequences of what will happen."

Leo had no idea what he had just done asking Marco for his protection. Marco could offer it, yes, but he was well aware that if the need came I would not only take down Leo, but any one of his men or family that stood in my way. It was not a war, not to me anyways, it was more a duty.

"I want to know what he did before I offer him anything," Marco said.

"That is not your concern," my father said.

"He killed your brother-in-law didn't he?"

I was not about to air anything out to Marco. When it came to matters such as these, I preferred to keep things on the low down, it was easier, better.

"Very well. I guess I have my answer."

 **~MINY~**

It was quiet as I entered the apartment, the only noise a hum of a TV that had been left on somewhere.

It was now well past two in the morning. Isabella was probably asleep and no doubt so was Garrett.

I took my shoes off and left them by the elevator door, not wanting to make any noise as I moved around and wake Isabella up.

As I made my into the living area, the TV was on and Garrett was sitting on the couch with his arms stretched out across the headrest. He had the balcony door wide open, letting the cold breeze in.

"Aren't you cold?"I asked, noting that he had his jacket on.

"Boss. Shit, sorry," he said, quickly taking his feet off the coffee table and standing up.

"It's freezing in here, shut that door."

"I can't," he said, sounding nervous and worried as he scratched the back of his head.

"Why not?" I asked, curious as to why he felt the need to have it open.

"She's outside. I tried everything I could, but she refused to come in."

I left Garrett and stormed out onto the balcony terrace. I was prepared to rip her apart. What was she thinking sitting out there in that cold?

Did she have a death wish?

Did she want to catch pneumonia?

But my anger subsided when I saw her laying there on the lounge with a heavy blanket covering her. She was fast asleep, seemingly not bothered by the plummeting temperature. Her hair was a tangled mess around her face, but her cheeks were bright red. Even with the thick blanket on it was clear to see that she was freezing.

"How long has she been out here?"

"All night," Garrett said.

"Why in the hell did you leave her to sleep outside, to freeze?"

"I'm sorry, boss. I didn't know what to do, if I should pick her up or not. I tried to get her to go inside, but she's...She's mad."

"How mad?" I asked, but I knew the answer to that already I didn't need Garret to confirm it for me.

"That depends. Do you want the buttered down version or the cold truth?"

"That bad?"

"She's sleeping out here isn't she."

Damn! "She's been doing this every night? You told me everything was okay," I said, more louder than I should have, causing Isabella to stir.

"No, this is a first. She usually sleeps on the couch. She said she refuses to sleep in your room, in your bed," he said.

I knew what I had done hadn't been the best. It had never been my intention to stay away for so many days, but it's just how it is. Things happen sometimes beyond my control and she would have to learn to deal with that, she needed to understand that some days, nights I would be late or not come home at all, it was part of the business, part of how this life was.

I removed the blanket off of her and scooped her up in my arms. Leaving Garrett to head off into his room, I carried Isabella upstairs into my room, our room.

Before I could pull back the covers and place her in bed, she had woken up, but nevertheless I carried on with the task. Putting her down on the bed, she did not say a word, she did not make a sound, to be honest I was sure she had stopped breathing.

I leaned over and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead before I stood up and headed into the bathroom to take a quick shower.

I had purposely left the bathroom door wide open. I wanted to know if she left. I wanted her to know that I was watching her even with my back turned. I wanted her to know she could not walk away, that we needed to talk.

I needed to apologize and hoped that she would forgive me. I hoped that somehow I might be able to salvage whatever little trust she had left in me, hopefully.

I quickly showered and threw on a pair of pyjama bottoms. Taking a deep breath I turned around and headed back into the bedroom and sat down beside her on the bed. I was tired, it was late and all I could think about was crawling in bed and letting my head hit the pillow but we needed to sort this out now.

Isabella was in the exact same position I had left her in. She was staring aimlessly in front of her, out the window, I don't think I noticed her blink. She was lost deep in her thoughts.

I cleared my throat, hoping to draw her attention, but I got nothing. She was going to ignore me, but I guess I deserved that.

"I'm sorry," I said, shifting closer to her, right up close in her personal space, but she did not react. "I didn't mean to leave you here like this with Garrett. It was never my intention to stay away for so long."

But there was still nothing, no reaction from her at all. She continued to stare blankly out the window unaffected by my presence right next to her until I ran the back of my fingers along the side of her face. She blinked rapidly and turned her head to face me.

"Hey." I offered a warm smile.

"Why are you here?" She finally spoke, asking a question that stabbed away at me.

"I am sorry, dolcezza. I don't know how many times I can say that until you believe me."

"You lied to me."

"I didn't lie to you." I defended, even though it was a lie. She was right, I had lied to her, not intentionally, but I had still done it.

"Yes you did and you're doing it again," she said, as she shuffled away from me to the other side of the bed.

"I am sorry about that."

"Stop apologizing," she yelled, jumping up off the bed. "Do you even know what you are apologizing for anymore? Do you even mean it?"

"Of course I mean it," I said. I stood up and went around to where she was. But with every step I took towards her, she took one back until she was at the foot of the door.

This wasn't how I had pictured this going, although I don't know what I was expecting from her. I knew she was mad at me, but the look on her face right now, it was something I didn't recognize, a look she had never had.

"Dolcezza," I tried.

"Stop calling me that. I am not your anything," she yelled. "I'm not mad at you. No, I'm mad at myself for being so stupid as to think that anything that came out of your mouth was actually true."

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head as she stared at me with what I could only describe as pure hate, before she backed out of the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" I asked, following after her.

"You can force me to stay here, but you cannot force me to sleep in that bed next to you, not anymore."


	16. Chapter 16

Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Isabella Cullen.**

"You have to stop acting like this, you know? You're not doing anyone any favors, not even yourself," Garrett said.

"Acting like what?" I asked. "I'm not doing anything. I haven't done anything."

Days had passed since Edward had decided to come home. I had not uttered a single word to him since our so-called talk that night, because really, what could I have to say to him?

Edward had been true to his word though, he was letting me come and go as I pleased. Although Garrett had always been a step behind me and I knew there was someone a step behind him. I was grateful that Edward had kept his promise, even though I could see the distress behind his eyes every time I walked out the door. I'm sure, no, I know he hated this, hated that he was allowing this, but he never voiced it.

I should have been happy that I could come and go as I pleased, even at one in the morning. I should be happy that here, of all places, I had some sort of freedom. Then again what was the point of freedom if it was only me? I had no friends, no one that I could really talk with, sure there was Garrett, but Garrett wasn't a friend. He was only with me because it was the job Edward had assigned him to do. Nevertheless, I did appreciate his company and that he was not as silent with me as he had been before, I don't think I could have handled that.

"Look, I know none of this is ideal," he said.

"Which part exactly?" I questioned with a raised brow, my voice not bothering to hide its sarcasm.

"Don't get smart with me here. I'm trying to help you."

He was trying to help me. He had been doing his best and I was just being stubborn. If it weren't for Garrett, I would probably still be sitting at home, just because I could, just to piss Edward off. Just because I did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that the freedom he had offered me meant far more than I had expected.

"The women in your role, they're tough. They look pretty, harmless, even, but they could slice your throat open with their nails before you could blink twice."

"Are you trying to make me feel better, Garrett? It's not working."

"I'm trying to get you to understand how things work." He sighed. I think he felt that he was fighting a losing battle with me.

"Well then, by your logic, I should go out and whack a few people off for the sole purpose of making Edward happy?"

"You're missing the point here," he said, pushing his coffee cup away.

"And what point is that?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest. I was well aware I was acting like a brat, but there were many things Garrett and I did not see eye-to-eye on, Edward was one of them.

Garrett put his elbows on the table and leaned his head as close to me as he could. "You're a mafia Don's wife, regardless if you want to be or not, you are. He's not hiding you away either, which I think he's playing with fire right there, but he knows what he's doing. For appearances sake in front of everyone you need to be strong and show that you are. Behind closed doors, you can do what you want, be who you want, and even hate him if you want. But the front you put on needs to be united. You need to show that no matter what, you are by his side and if need be, you'll pull a trigger to protect or defend him," he said.

"Why are you telling me this? What's it to you? What do you get out of it? He hurt you. Look what he did to your arm, and yet you're still here working for him, helping him. Why?" I asked.

Why was Garrett doing any of this? What did it matter if Edward and I showed a united front? There were so many things about this life, Edward's life, I didn't understand. It wasn't as if Edward was willing to explain any of it to me, but to be fair, I never asked any questions either.

"I can't walk away, Isabella, it's not that simple, and I don't want to, but even if I did, there's no way out, only with a bullet in the head."

"That's not fair," I said.

"This is the life I chose to live. These are the decisions I've made and I have no regrets.

I knew what I was getting myself into. No one forced me, no one held a gun to my head. And you know what, if I had do it all over again, I would make the same choice."

"Even though your boss is an asshole who stabbed you, scared you and lord knows what else he did to you that you're not telling me?"

"Yes!"

"That's it? Yes? That's all you got?" I asked, staring at him, trying to figure him out.

Garrett was hard to understand at the best of times. With James it was easy, he had a motive, a reason to become a part of this life, but Garrett?

Garrett was the same as James had been. He didn't come into the mafia from blood, he wasn't family and he had no connections. I wasn't even sure Garrett had any Italian heritage at all, or if he even spoke the language.

Everyone had a reason, that's what Anthony always said. No one ever did anything just because, there was always a reason, a deeper story.

"I don't have an interesting backstory like most of those who join out of the family. I'm not looking for anyone, I didn't even have a troubled childhood, it was pretty good in fact, but that didn't mean I wasn't curious."

"You joined the mafia out of curiosity?" I asked, maybe a little louder than I had intended to. The few people that were seated close to us turned to stare, but they quickly averted their gaze with one look from Garrett.

"That's just stupid, idiotic even," I said. "What did you think you would find them doing? Trading girl scout cookies?"

He threw his head back laughing. "You're priceless, you know that."

"I'm glad I amuse you."

"Are you ready to go?" He asked, looking down at my empty coffee cup.

"Yeah."

As we made our way outside of the cafe, something, someone caught my eye.

Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe it was my mind playing tricks on me.

New York had a rather large population for such a small perimeter. The city always offered a sense of deja vu. You could be walking down the street and see someone going in the opposite direction as you and swear that you had seen the same person only five minutes prior standing right next to you only in different clothing. Although this wasn't one of those situations. No, it couldn't be.

The person that had walked past me bared too much of a resemblance to my only friend. The same bright eyes that stood out against his lashes. This person even had the same distinct smell that Michael had, a crisp and clean cologne.

"Hey," Garrett said, tugging at my arm.

Please turn back and look at me, my mind screamed. I had to know, I had to be certain it was not Michael. Even though deep down I was hoping it wasn't Michael, not after what Edward had…

Yet a small part of me did want to see him, at least one last time.

As if the person in front of me had heard my silent request, he turned his head around in my direction.

My body became frozen in its place and my heart sank.

It was Michael staring back at me. A bright and beautiful smile lit his face as he came toward me.

From the corner of my eye I saw Garrett's hand reach into his jacket. With his other hand, he tugged roughly at my arm trying with all his effort to pull me away.

"Stop it," I said. "I know him."

"Which is why we need to leave. You're suppose to be dead, remember?"

"I know him from Sicily. Let go of me." I pulled my arm out of his grasp as soon as he loosened his hold on me. "He doesn't know anything. He's just a friend."

"Shit! You know I can't let you do this. He's going to fucking kill the both of us if he finds out," Garrett stressed.

"Then don't tell him. He doesn't need to know every single, little thing. Do you report to him how many times a day I go to the bathroom? Are you monitoring that as well?" I asked, giving him a slight shove.

Garrett looked toward Michael and all around him at the same time. I knew that look. I knew what he was doing. He was sizing Michael up, looking for any threat or danger.

"Look at me," he said roughly. "You have two minutes and that's it."

I ignored him and took the few steps towards Michael, who did not appear bothered by the murderous looking man standing behind me on my left.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. New York was the last place I even expected to see Michael, not that I was expecting to ever see him again.

"My work transferred me here," he said with his smooth Irish accent, that I'll admit, I had missed. "I tried to call you before my departure, but I could not get a hold of you. Are you alright?" He asked, taking that one small step where he invaded my personal space.

"I'm...I'm fine," I said, offering him what I hoped looked like a reassuring smile. "It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too, Isabella. I was worried about you. I see your husband has you...guarded." He chuckled, throwing an amused glance in Garrett's direction.

"There's no reason to worry about me. I'm fine. Perfectly fine." I lied. I was anything but fine. "It was good to see you again Michael," I said, knowing that my time had to be almost up. I didn't want Garrett coming anywhere near Michael. I didn't want him to get hurt because of me.

"Wait," he said, grabbing a hold of my hand. I felt him slip something into my palm as he leaned in closer and placed a lingering kiss on my cheek.

"I want to see you again," he whispered in my ear. His warm breath sent goosebumps up and down my arms, my back. I hated myself for that.

I wasn't able to utter a single word. I felt as if my voice had been lost. I nodded my response like a fool. Like an idiot I had silently agreed to his request, even though I knew it would be impossible.

Michael gave me one last longing look, it was as if he was silently pleading with me, before he turned on his heel and left.

Garrett wasted no time pulling me off the sidewalk and he wasn't gentle about it either.

He pushed me into the backseat of the waiting car and climbed in after me. Someone else was driving. This was someone I had never seen before. I had been right, there was someone else trailing after Garrett and me.

Garrett made sure the privacy screen was rolled up before he turned his body in my direction.

"What the fuck was that?!" He asked, no, he yelled.

"I didn't do anything." I defended.

"How could you have been so stupid as to tell him your real name?"

"What are you talking about? He knows me as Marie. I would never tell him my real name. I haven't told anyone."

"Then why did he call you Isabella?"

"He...did...he didn't call me Isabella," I said. Michael didn't call me Isabella, he couldn't, he doesn't know my real name I had never let it slip I was certain.

"You're not only stupid, you're deaf as well. He called you Isabella. Fucking Isabella, not Marie."

"I'm not stupid!" I yelled in his face. My eyes were burning with angry tears that I didn't want to let escape. "And I'm sure as hell not deaf. Though you seem to be, or you're fucking hearing things. You're trying to make something out of nothing so you can have a good story to go back and tell your boss, what his little wife did today."

"What's in your hand? What did he give you?" He asked, not at all affected by my outburst.

The small piece of paper in my hand suddenly felt as if it weighed a ton. I knew what Michael had to have given me and there was no way I was about to hand it over to Garrett.

"I don't have anything in hand," I said, bringing my hands in between my thighs. I knew there would be no way Garrett would try and pull my hands out from there, not if he valued his life.

He sighed as he shook his head and let out a soft chuckle, although there was no humor behind it.

"You're playing with fire, Isabella, and when you play with fire it will only be a matter of time until you get burned."

"You're not going to tell him. You told me you wouldn't."

"I never said that. I have to tell him, and if I don't, Vito in front will."


	17. Chapter 17

Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 _ **Edward Cullen.**_

"How in the hell does he keep getting away with this!?" My father yelled, as he slammed his palms against his mahogany desk.

Money continued to disappear from his foreign account. Although we had transferred the majority of it into another account, we had left a portion in the hopes that maybe, somehow they might slip up and we would be able to trace it back. But luck was not on our side with this one.

Marco, against his better judgment, had gone and offered Leo his family's protection.

The more I thought about all of this...Leo didn't possess the knowledge to orchestrate something like this. He wasn't a hacker, only an accountant at best, if he wanted to call himself that.

He had to be working with someone else, an untraceable figure who was obviously close enough to us to know about this account or be able to find out about it easily.

But the more I searched, the more dead ends I reached, the more frustrated and angry I became.

"We have let this go on for far too long. We are beginning to look weak. I know it's Leo, you know it as well, and Marco is a fool for involving himself in this. But I am going after them, all of them," he said.

"The hell you are," I said.

"It's not your decision to make!" he yelled. "I said I want Leo dead and I don't care if I have to go through the entire Moretti family to get to him."

This would not be the first time that my father had undermined me and I doubt it would be the last.

He didn't think I saw it. If that was the case, then he was stupider than I gave him credit for. I knew him all too well, in a way, I knew him better than he knew himself.

He never wanted to hand the ropes over to me. He never wanted to give me power, not the way it happened anyways.

My father was the sort of man who needed power, he craved it, breathed it. It was something deep within his bones and swimming in his blood. He loved the power and the high that came from it. He loved the bloodthirst, the respect, and the ultimate authority.

I remember every time Anthony did something stupid, killed someone just for looking at him wrong. Our father would be pissed at him. But it was a false anger, behind it, he took pride in Anthony's demons even though he punished him for his actions.

He was proud of every fuckery Anthony had ever done, even taking Isabella. Our father will never admit it, but he loved what Anthony had done with Charles.

He always had a softer spot for Anthony, because my brother was the perfect unpredictable reflection of himself.

Without a shadow of a doubt, if my father had had the choice, Anthony would have been Don. But tradition killed all of his hopes I guess, I was his firstborn son, even if it was only by a few minutes. The only way Anthony would have ever been Don, was if I was dead.

"That is not your decision to make," I reminded him as I was trying to remind myself to remain calm.

"He is making us look like idiotic, weak fools. You are the head of this family and yet you are acting like a fucking pussy." He spat the words out with venom in my face.

I pushed myself up from the cabinet I had been leaning against. I counted the steps it took me to reach my father's place behind his desk, seven.

He either didn't pay attention to my presence or he did not care. But there was one thing he was not prepared for, the attack.

I didn't give him any warning. There were no words exchanged as my fist collided with his nose, causing his head to snap back.

I had his attention then. He was aware of my close proximity now.

He stood up quickly in his fit of anger. He came towards me with his nose bloodied and his hands balled into fists. He was ready to retaliate and fight back.

"You son of a bitch," he spat, lunging at me.

This was not the first time my father and I had gotten into a physical altercation. This was how he trained my brother and I from the time we were small children, it was how I learned to predict his every move.

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and forcefully slammed his back against the wall, causing a hung frame to lose its place on the wall and come crashing down to the floor by our feet.

"Let's get one thing straight here, padre, once and for all," I said. "I give the orders, not you. I decide who lives and who dies, not you. I make the rules, not you.

You disrespected me here today, and you know what happens when you disrespect your Don, right, padre?"

"Let go of me," he said, trying to get out of the death grip I had on him.

"Consider yourself lucky that I haven't put a bullet in between your eyes for the disrespect you have shown me. Let this be your first and final warning."

And just like that, my father bowed down. But I was not stupid enough to believe this was the end of it.

 _ **~MINY~**_

It was another Sunday night. Therefore, making it the usual family dinner get-together.

I could tell that being seated at a table surrounded by my family made Isabella a little uncomfortable. She was fidgeting with her fingers in her lap, wringing them to death. I thought she might snap one off at any moment.

I slid my hand under the table to her lap and attempted to pry her fingers apart with one hand. I was grateful when she did not put up any sort of a fight. Instead, she willingly intertwined her fingers with mine, it was a small act, but one that took me completely by surprise. I welcomed any sort of contact from her that she was willing to give me considering how cold she has been lately, this was nice and the warm smile she offered was the icing on the cake.

I turned my attention to my father, who was seated at the other end of the table right in front of me.

There was something about him tonight, something that simply did not sit right with me. His mood was almost too happy for my liking. It was as if he was hiding something or getting ready to drop a bomb on me, on us. The way he was looking between Isabella and myself. Only added to fuel to the fire.

"What's up with the mood?" I asked.

"Excuse me?" He said, as he looked up from the top of his glass, hiding his smirk behind it.

I stared back at him with a raised brow. waiting for him to say something, to explain himself. I knew he could not hold his tongue for long, it was not in his nature where I was concerned.

"Can I not be happy to have all my children together under my roof?" He pointed out.

All of his children but one.

Sofia was seated by me and Rosalie was next to her. Emmett had stepped outside a few minutes prior to take a phone call. My mother was seated next to my father and his sister to his left.

I looked to Rosalie in the hopes that she might be able to shed some light for me on our father's rather unusually happy mood, but she too shrugged in confusion.

"Leave him alone, nipote," Carmen said. "It is nice to see my fratello in bright spirits."

"Yes, Edward, leave your father alone. It's nice to see him like this for a change. Can he not just be happy?" my mother said.

No, not him and especially not now with everything that has been going on. And certainly not after what I had done to him. He had a nice bruise forming under his nose.

"I am glad to see my daughter-in-law. If I didn't know any better, I would believe you were trying to keep her away from us."

"Is Edward keeping you that busy Marie that you do not have time to come and see us?" My zia asked. "I missed you."

"Thank you, Carmen. I have missed you as well," Isabella said, offering Carmen a small polite smile.

"Good," Carmen replied. "You and I, we will have lunch this week, just the two of us."

"Now that I have you both here," my father interrupted. "There is something important that I need address with the both of you."

"Such as?" I asked.

I didn't like this. I didn't like the feel of it at all. There was nothing of importance that needed to be addressed in front of Isabella. There was nothing my father needed to tell her, nothing she needed to know. I had been right, I knew my father could never fall in line. I knew it would only be a matter of time before he tried to pull a stunt again.

"Oh, don't give me that look, Edward. I was only going to ask when you plan to impregnate your wife, or do you need me to show you how it's done?" He said, with no regard that his wife, my mother, was seated beside him.

Beside me, Isabella began choking on her water as soon as the words had left my father's mouth. She harshly removed her hand from mine and grabbed her napkin wiping at her mouth.

"Carlisle," my mother called out, sounding every bit appalled as she looked. She too could not believe the words that had left her husband's mouth. "That is not your concern, or any of our concerns for that matter."

"I beg to differ," my father challenged.

I pinched the tip of my nose as I stared at him across the table. I got it, I knew exactly what he was trying to do. He was trying to get payback because I had refused his request, his hit, and now he was attempting to hurt me where he knew I would be affected the most.

"Do I need to remind you again?" I asked, standing up from my place. I would not do anything stupid, not with Sofia in the room.

"Remind me of what exactly?"

What an arrogant bastard he was. I glanced at Isabella beside me, at the expression on her face. I was almost certain that if I were to place a gun in her hand right now, she would not think twice about shooting my father.

"Edward, please, don't," my mother said.

"We...we have a big problem," Emmett said, storming back into the room.

"What?" Both my father and I asked in unison.

Emmett shook his head, motioning towards his daughter and my wife in the room.

"I could use some help in the kitchen with dessert," my mother said, as she stood up and headed out of the room. Carmen went right behind her, so was my sister, carrying Sofia on her hip.

"Go stay with my mother for a bit, I'll be right there," I said, helping Isabella out of her seat.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"It's nothing for you to worry about. Go, this won't take long. We'll go home after."

I watched her leave out of the room and closed the door behind her before shifting my attention back to Emmett.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked.

"Marco's son was found strapped to a shipping container at the Red Hook Terminal," he said.

"Fuck!" I cursed. "What the fuck did you do?" I turned to my father, who threw his hands up in the air in surrender.

"I didn't do this," he said.

"There's more," Emmett said. "He had our family mark burned into him."

"That's impossible," my father said.

"You fucking did this!" I yelled, shoving my finger in his chest.

"I didn't do shit. I'm not fucking stupid. I wouldn't put our family's mark on him and leave him where he could be found," he said, shoving my hand away.

He was right. He may want his revenge, but even on impulse, he would never be stupid enough as to sign our name to a murder.

Whoever murdered Marco's son, tied our name to it, they want Marco to believe that we did it, that's why they left the body in a place where it could easily be found.

Was Leo really that stupid to kill the only son of the man who had offered him his family's protection? No, no I seriously doubt it. There was something more here, something that I could not see, a link I could not find.

The one thing I was certain of right now, this would mean war. Marco would come for his retribution.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69**_

 _ **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

 _ **Isabella Cullen (Marie)**_

Carmen had always been a confusing person. It was hard to understand her at the best of times.

Don't get me wrong, she was a nice person, my only true friend really. The only person who had done everything in her power to help me fit into this mess of a family.

However, every so often, Carmen would have these moments where she would say or look at me in a way that made me wonder if she was speaking to me or to herself.

True to her word, Carmen had taken me to lunch. We weren't in Manhattan anymore. After dinner Sunday night, Edward had everyone whisked away.

I don't know what had happened or was happening to make him react in such a way. Those were things he never spoke of to me.

We were upstate at Lake Placid. It was a place I knew all too well. It was a place that held painful memories. It was a place that hurt me to be in.

Then again none of that mattered, not to Edward, or any of them. They didn't care that I wasn't able to sleep at night in that house. They didn't care about my pain. They didn't care that it physically hurt me to breath being inside those walls.

No, they only cared about themselves. Even Garrett had said I was over-reacting.

"You need to make some friends. Get out and meet some new people, away from the family," Carmen said.

"You know that's hard for me to do. I can't even go to the bathroom without Garrett trailing behind me."

"I do not like him," she said, looking over my shoulder at Garrett, who was seated at the table behind us.

"Why not? He's a good guy."

Garrett really was, he was better than I thought. He never mentioned my run-in with Michael and neither did his sidekick, Vito. I never thanked him for that.

Speaking of Michael, I carried the piece of paper he had slipped me everywhere I went, even to bed. I didn't want to risk Garrett taking it from me, or worse, Edward finding it.

Michael was staying in a condo in Manhattan, ironically enough across the street from Edward and I.

He was so close, my only friend outside of this family, and yet he felt so far away. It felt cruel, like a child with a lollypop dangling in front of its face. It was so close all they needed to do was reach out and grab it, but they couldn't. That's what I felt like, a child being teased.

"I do...well, I did. I don't...I had another friend, someone not from the family," I said.

"Oh…" She didn't appear as surprised by my news as I had expected her to be.

"You don't look so surprised?"

"No, I am. Tell me all about him," she said.

"How did you know it was a him?" I asked. I don't know why it bothered me that she would just assume.

"I'm sorry, I should not have made an assumption. Am I wrong?"

"Well...no."

"Tell me all about him then. Where did you meet him?"

I turned my head around to glance at Garrett. I had to make sure, double check, that he hadn't moved from his spot, that he wasn't close enough to eavesdrop on me, us. Satisfied that he wasn't within earshot, I turned back to face Carmen.

"I met him on the pier back in Ragusa. We sort of bumped into each other." I paused, waiting for Carmen to give me some sort of reaction, but she gave nothing away. "He's nice. I mean, he doesn't know who I am, who I really am, who the family is. It was nice to have someone treat me like a normal person as opposed to Edward's wife."

"I'm glad you found a friend, Marie. You deserve someone to make you happy, truly happy," she said, reaching out for my hand across the table. "Does my nipote know of your friend?"

"He found out about him back in Sicily. That didn't go too well," I said, licking my dry lips. The memory was still fresh in my mind. Edward's threats, Stefan. I shook my head, trying to rid it of those thoughts. I couldn't think about that. I couldn't let my mind wander to that place.

"What did he do?" Carmen asked, squeezing my hand in reassurance.

"It doesn't matter what he did." I shrugged.

"Of course it matters. Edward has no right to tamper with your happiness."

"Michael was a good friend, but I don't want his blood on my hands. Edward will kill him, he may do worse if he knows he is in New York. So because of that, I don't need a friend."

"I thought you said you met this friend back home?"

"His work apparently transferred him here. I saw him last week, we ran into each other. He gave me a way to contact him. As much as I want to, Carmen, I can't. Garrett was there and I am so thankful that he never mentioned it to Edward. Anyway it was a one time thing, if I were to see him again, Garrett would tell Edward and I can't let that happen, Camren, I can't."

"Hey now, if you want to see him again, I can help you," she said.

"How?"

"Trust me, alright," she said, although her eyes were not on me, her focus was directed behind me. I presumed she was watching Garrett. "Just have a little bit of patience and everything will work out. I promise you, trust me. You and me, we are going to be…"

"Get up now, we're leaving," Garrett said, tugging on my arm.

I don't know what had gotten into him, he tugged frantically on my arm, willing me to stand up. He was looking all around the small cafe, for what, or better yet, who, I don't know. He spoke with someone through his smart watch.

"Isabella, I swear to God. I have his permission to manhandle you, to get out of here if you don't move," Garrett said, as he waited for someone to reply through his watch.

"You do not need to be so rough with her," Carmen glared at him.

"Move it, now," he demanded.

I didn't want to cause a scene. I didn't want to draw anymore attention to us than Garrett already had. I noticed his hand went into his jacket reaching for his gun.

Seeing that, I shot up out of my seat, almost knocking Garrett in face in the process. Carmen followed suit as Garrett tucked me into his side and dragged me out of the cafe into the waiting car out front.

Garrett pushed Carmen into the front seat beside Vito, which left me all alone with him in the back with the privacy screen up.

"Overreacting much," I said, folding my arms.

"You need to be completely honest with me here, Isabella," he said. He held his watch to his ear, clearly someone was talking to him through it, I just wondered who it was.

"I haven't done anything."

"Your friend, you remember him. Who is he really?" Garrett asked.

"My what?"

"For your sake, I would answer the question."

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded. "Why did you drag me out of there like that? I have a right to know, Garrett."

"Your Sicilian friend, the one who you supposedly ran into last week."

Michael? What did Michael have to do with any of this? Who was Garrett whispering to through his watch?

"What about him?" I asked, cautiously.

"What aren't you telling us about him?"

"Us? Who are you talking to through that watch?" I asked. Then it hit me. "You told him didn't you!?" I yelled.

"Shut the fuck up, Isabella," I heard Edward's angry voice vibrating from Garrett's watch.

"Who is he?" Garrett asked.

I couldn't believe him. I couldn't believe he had told Edward. I thought he was...No, I couldn't trust Garrett either. I should have known better than to trust him. I should have but I didn't.

"Answer the fucking question!" I heard Edward's voice booming in again.

"He is...Was, he was a friend."

"Bullshit," Edward said.

"Hang up on him," I said. I wouldn't sit here and listen to him yell at me through a damn watch.

"He was at the cafe, Isabella, he was watching you. Him being in Manhattan may have been a coincidence, but not here. No one knows we are here, so how would he? What did you tell him? I know he gave you his number. Did you tell him where you were?"

"He didn't give me anything," I lied. "I didn't tell him anything. It probably wasn't even him. You're overreacting."

"I'm not an idiot, Isabella, I know who I saw."

"Well then, you're blind."

He was, he had to be, because there was absolutely no way Michael would be here in Lake Placid.

"It's my job to keep you safe. You can say whatever you want, that I'm blind, that I'm overreacting, but I can see what you are too blind to see. There is something not right with him. Wake the fuck up. There is more to your friend than you think."

 _ **~MINY~**_

Back at the estate, things were awkward. Carlisle was nowhere in sight, that in itself was a blessing. The last thing I needed right now was to hear him talk about me reproducing with his son. It baffled me how he could want that. How could they want to bring a child into this life?

Edward was, well, I don't quite know. The way he was acting, the look on his face, it was unrecognizable. I think he wanted to hurt me. He charged at me the moment I stepped out of the car. Grabbing onto my shoulders harshly, I could feel his nails as they dug into my skin, leaving cuts and bruises from his fingers from the strength of his grasp. Yes, Edward wanted to hurt me and if it had not been for Garrett stepping in to stop him, he would have.

Even though this was all Garrett's fault to begin with. He didn't need to tell Edward about anything. He didn't need to overreact, Michael wasn't there at the cafe, I didn't see him, and if he was, I knew he would have come up to me.

It was close to midnight, and Edward was locked in his office with Emmett. Carlisle had still to make an appearance.

I came down to the kitchen to grab something to eat, with Garrett following behind me. I never had a chance to finish lunch and I had skipped dinner. I refused to come down and eat with any of them, to sit at the table and smile and pretend everything was ok.

"Oh, you've decided to come down," Esme said.

She startled me. I didn't think anyone was down here at this hour.

"Jesus, Esme. You scared me," I said, holding on to my heart. Garrett put his hand on my shoulder, but I was quick to shrug him off. I didn't need him or his lying traitor hands on me.

"Why did you not join us for dinner?" She asked. It did not go unnoticed by me that her attitude towards me had changed. She sized me up and down with narrowed eyes. She looked at me as if I had committed some crime against her. It made me a little uneasy to be standing in the same room as her right now, even with Garrett behind me.

"I didn't…" I was going to lie and tell her I had not been feeling well, but why would I do that? Why would I lie to spare her feelings? I don't know what's come over me, but I just did not care any more. "You know what, I didn't want to come to dinner. I didn't want to sit at a table surrounded by any of you," I said.

She chuckled. Licking her lips, she came around the table at me.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't. I'm sure you would much rather be with your friend. What was his name...Michael, that's right," she said.

Her words would not have affected me as much if she were not looking at me with that expression, as if I had somehow betrayed her, her family, Edward.

"I'm sorry that you feel offended by my friend, but that's all he was, a friend," I said.

"A male friend."

"I do believe he was a male, yes."

"My family is not for you to degrade. Our family, our associates saw you in Ragusa, parading around with a man who was not your husband, a man we do not know anything about."

"If you are going to scold me for this, Esme, then you should also go after your son. After all, he did parade his whore around and you tried to cover it up," I said, watching as her face turned into one of pure rage.

"How dare you," she spat.

"Not so good when the shoe's on the other foot, is it?"

I don't know what had gotten into me. I don't know where all this was coming from, but it felt good. It felt good to know I was making Esme angry. It felt good to let it all out. It felt good to not care anymore.

That was it, that's what it was, I didn't care anymore because there was nothing they could do to me that hadn't already been done.

I was going to leave, I had lost my appetite, I couldn't stomach anything, but before I left I turned back around to face Esme.

"You know, I envy Anthony."

I watched her face fall at the mention of her dead son's name. It was a low blow for me to attack her there, but as I said, I did not care. I was prepared to deal with whatever consequences came from this.

"He got the easy way out. He got death. He got to leave all you fucked up people behind and burn in hell. I wish I would have been that lucky. Burning in hell would have been better than burning here with you all." With that I turned and left not waiting for any response.

Garrett was hot on my tail as I made my way back up to my room.

"That was harsh. There was no need for that," he said.

"The truth hurts. It's not my fault she can't handle it." I shrugged.

I reached my door. I turned around and put my hand on Garrett's chest, pushing him back.

"I'm going to have a shower and then I'm going to go to sleep. You don't have to come in after me and I don't need an audience," walking into my room and closing the door in his face, locking it to make sure he would not come in.

I didn't want to take a shower and I couldn't sleep either. From the corner of my eyes, I noticed Edward's car keys sitting on top of the dresser, but he wasn't in here.

I grabbed the keys, tossing them around in my hand as I went and sat by the open window. Looking out the window, I could see he had left his car further away from the house. He had been driving behind us earlier. I guess in his anger, he had left his car as quickly as he could to come and get to me.

This room was on the second floor. I stuck my head out the window looking down at the drop. It was a long way down. I noticed there was a lattice with some sort of vine along the side of my window. I wondered if it would be strong enough to hold me?

I shouldn't do this. I know I shouldn't do this. I didn't think about it, no, I didn't give it a second thought as I climbed out the window, with Edward's keys hot in my pocket. I climbed down the lattice. It was unsteady, I thought it would break with me at one point, but I made it to the bottom.

As my feet touched the ground I looked back up at the window to see if Garrett had was standing there watching me, but I guess he hadn't come in yet. I looked all around, there was no one out here.

Very cautiously and as quiet as I could be, I made my way to the car. I climbed in and started the engine. If someone had noticed me, they weren't doing anything to stop me. I drove down the driveway as fast as I could. I knew I needed to get out of sight from the house, I just had no idea where I was going. I couldn't very well drive out the front gates.

Turning off the driveway, I drove along fence line in the grass, hoping I could find another way out, even if I had to jump the fence.

My prayers were answered. A little further up, close to the back of the property, was a wide gate, although I doubt it would be wide enough for the car to fit through, but it was worth a try.

I climbed out, looking around for any sign that someone was coming after me, before I opened the gate as wide as it would go.

I didn't think about it. I knew there was a chance I was about to wreck Edward's car, but it was a risk I was willing to take.

I put my foot on the accelerator and gave the car enough gas to make it through the gate, but not without taking out the left side mirror and scratching the car from hood to trunk.

I had made it through. I had made it out. I couldn't help but laugh. I had made it out undetected. The thought alone made me giddy. I had no idea where I was going. The road I traveled down led me into a part of Lake Placid I hadn't been in before, I doubted it was even part of the town.

I left the car at the top of what looked like the main street. It was well after midnight now and everything was closed. However, I could hear music coming from nearby. The perfect hiding place.

I had never been the sort of person to be interested in clubbing. I had never been to a club before tonight. I didn't understand why people found these places so attractive, if anything, it was giving me a headache. The pounding music, the smell of sweaty bodies and alcohol overwhelmed my senses. I don't know why I came here. However, it was the only place currently open at this time of night and it was dark enough to hide me, for a few hours at least, I hoped.

I knew it would only be a matter of time until Garrett realizes I'm not where I said I would be. I knew he would tell Edward and I knew they would come looking for me.

I know that my actions were going to get Garrett in trouble, if not, killed, but in the heat of the moment I could not bring myself to care. I hated him, I hated every lying part of him. He betrayed me. He was a liar, just like Edward, just like Carlisle, like Esme. They were all liars. That shouldn't have surprised me, not anymore, yet it still did.

I pushed all of it to the furthest part of my mind. I knew my time was limited and I was determined to enjoy every second of the freedom I had made for myself.

I was on my third drink in so many minutes, although I didn't have any money with me, the bartender didn't seem to mind supplying me with drinks. I don't know what it was I had been given, I had asked for something strong and that's exactly what I got.

With my drink in hand, I moved away from the bar and down to where the bodies of people were all dancing together, rubbing up against each other. It wasn't nice to stare at people, especially when they were locked in such an intimate moment. I found myself unable to look away from a couple on the dance floor that were grinding up against each other.

He had his hands on her hips as she moved against him with one of his legs between her thighs. It wasn't there dirty dancing that held my attention, no, it was the way he was looking at her, as if she were special, the only one in this room.

I won't lie, I felt jealous of this mystery couple, of the unknown woman, because she had something I wanted. Not the man, but the attention, the affection he was showering her with. I never thought I would want that sort of attention from someone.

I threw my drink back, letting the strong liquor burn its way down my throat. I started to feel a little dizzy. I hoped it wouldn't take Edward or Garrett too long to find me, because I had no idea how to get back to the estate on my own.

I turned around ready to head back over to the bar. I needed to sit down before I ended up on the floor. However, as my body turned around, my eyes landed on a person standing too close behind me. I hadn't noticed anyone around me. He didn't look angry, even though I had expected him to. As I moved closer to him I realized it wasn't my husband who had been standing behind me.

My mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish. Words failed me. I must have had more to drink than I first thought because this was impossible, this wasn't real. This was a dream, it had to be, otherwise I had to be dead.

He smirked at me, bringing his hand up to the back of my neck and pulling me closer to his face. We stood nose to nose. I could smell him, see him clearly, feel him.

"Hello little lamb."


	19. Chapter 19

_**Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69**_

 _ **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

 _ **Anthony Cullen.**_

It hadn't been an easy thing to do, to hide away all these years. It hadn't been easy to lie to my mother, to let her believe I was dead. There were a few who knew, of course, my father, my brother, Emmett, and a few of those who frequented the underground. However, those fuckers would not dare say a thing. They knew that not only them, but their families and everything and everyone they held dear would be as good as dead.

I never expected to live. When that bullet hit me, I thought that my time was over.

I welcomed death, and the peace it would bring me even though I knew I would burn in hell for all eternity.

Imagine my shock when I woke up two weeks later in my room in the underground.

The bullet that had hit me, had missed all my major organs and arteries. Fair to say, I was one lucky fucker.

My cousin, Frank, he took care of me. One of the attending paramedics recognized me and alerted him.

They brought me in through the hospital's service entry and took me down to the basement, where Frank treated me. Frank had me down there for three days before my brother had me moved.

I will admit to one thing though, it had been nice to step away from it all. It had been nice to not have to worry about a new target on my back, to constantly have to look over my shoulder.

However, those feelings were short-lived. I missed my old life. I missed the action, the pain, the look of fear in our enemies eyes when they saw us coming. I missed everything.

I hated being another face in the crowd, a nobody, just an average Joe Schmuck. It wasn't me.

I went away for a while to San Diego, at my brother's insistence. I got a fucking job there at a local bar. Me of all people mixing drinks for other fuckers.

I couldn't handle that. I couldn't cope, it wasn't me, it wasn't what I was designed to do. So I came back to New York.

Edward had given me all his shit to sort out, paperwork. I was doing fucking paperwork for my brother underground.

I felt myself slowly losing it. I couldn't handle this anymore, and my brother and father knew it. I couldn't deal with lurking in the shadows anymore, but they did not agree with me, especially my brother, even after I had offered to help him find Isabella. He had refused me, that was his first mistake.

I knew where she was, I had known straightaway. That was one of the beauties of being stuck in the shadows, I had a lot of free time to investigate. Who would have thought I would be good at it? I found my brother's wife in a matter of minutes and he would have too if he hadn't been so blinded. I wanted to help him. However, if he was not willing to do something for me, then I was going to keep this from him, and I did, for three years. I was surprised he had figured it out in the end.

It was a little disappointing when Edward had found out our father's secret. It had been fun watching him these past years become the monster I always knew he was hiding deep inside himself. Our father loved this side of Edward as well, more so than me.

I had been there when they all returned from Sicily with our zia Carmen. It was hard to believe that our uncle was dead, Eleazar had always been a strong man. Still, none of us had seen this coming, none of us had been prepared for an attack, and we still had no clue who it was, even with my new developed skills, I couldn't find a damn thing.

The first time that I saw my little lamb in three years, she left me speechless. She had all my attention the moment she stepped off the plane.

Three years on a Tuscan holiday had changed her in more ways than one. She appeared leaner, a little fuller in a good way, she had been far too skinny before. Her hair was shorter, but she had kept that dark brown color that I loved on her.

I hide away in the shadows and watched as she ran from my brother's side and leapt into Garrett's arms.

I had expected my brother to take Garrett out right then and there on the tarmac, she was his wife after-all and she was in the arms of another man while our family watched on. Imagine my surprise when he did nothing, absolutely nothing.

It had been late at night, when my brother came underground, barging into my room, ignoring my naked ass in his face, ignoring the screaming whore bent over in front of me.

"Jesus," he said. "Put your fucking clothes on and get rid of that."

I ignored him. I was not going to pay him any attention until I finished. The woman, whose name was lost to me, tried to crawl away when my brother had barged in. I wasn't going to have that. I pushed her head further into the mattress and found my release.

I pulled myself out of her, and gave a loud smack on her ass, causing her to yelp. I removed the condom and discarded it as she hurried to collect her clothes and run out of the room.

I stood in front of my brother with my arms folded across my chest. I didn't bother to cover myself up from him. It wasn't the first time he had seen me in the nude or balls deep in a woman, we had shared plenty after all. I missed those days.

"Can you put some fucking pants on," he said.

"You interrupted me. What do you want?"

"I'm taking everyone upstate for a while."

"Why?"

"Shit's gone down. Marco's kid was found on the docks, tied to a shipping container. He had our family's mark carved into his chest. Marco's going to want retribution and I don't want risk anyone," he stressed.

"I thought you ordered dad not to go after Marco?" I asked, pulling on a pair of sweats.

"Don't be stupid, Anthony. You know dad didn't do this."

"I wouldn't put it past him if he did. He's been different since you've been back. What happened in Ragusa?" I asked.

Our father's current behavior was a reason for concern. He was calm, usually. He was the sort of man, the sort of Don that had planned his every move down to the finest detail.

"You know, your new skills, as you call them, are really proving shit. You haven't found anything. What use are you to me if you can't track one fucking person down!?" He yelled as he paced back and forth, his hands pulling on his hair.

"I'm trying my fucking best, alright. Kind of hard when I'm stuck down here. You want me to keep track of all your fuck-ups, including Janina? I can't do every fucking thing for you!" I yelled back, getting in his face. He was on my last nerve.

"I get that you're stressed, but don't come here and get in my face because I can't fix your fuck-ups. Alright, brother."

He grabbed my shoulders and pushed to the floor, kicking me in the stomach. That hurt, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Is that what you want? To fight?" I asked, standing up, ready to take him on.

"I don't want to fight you, Anthony. I'm trying to deal with all this and then more bullshit happens." He stressed. For a moment I felt sorry for him, only for a small moment.

"You know I can help you, if you'd just let me."

I went to the mini fridge to grab a bottle of water, tossing my brother one as well. We both sat on the edge of my bed, both feeling sorry for ourselves, me half naked, him with his head in his hands.

"Go upstate. I'll go out here," I said.

"You are not going any where where someone can see you. You're dead, Anthony," he said.

"Exactly. Marco knows you're going to hide after this. I go out, they'll think I'm you. We can lure him in and bang," I said, flexing my fingers.

"No!"

"Suit yourself." I shrugged.

"We are leaving tonight, well, everyone else has gone. I came to let you know. I need you to do something while we are gone."

"You mean apart from keeping tabs on your mistress?" I chuckled as he narrowed his eyes, not finding my statement funny. He had lost what little sense of humor he had over these past few years.

"I need you to find out what the Feds have on this. What they are planning to do about it," he said.

"No problem," I saluted. "Give Isabella a kiss from me." I winked.

 _ **~MINY~**_

Had I listened to my brother? Of course not, that's how I found myself in Lake Placid.

It was a lucky thing for my brother that I hadn't taken his order. If I had, who would be trailing behind his wife right now.

I have to hand it to her, she trashed his car, that took some guts. Although, I am curious how she managed to get out undetected by anyone, especially Garrett, who had been glued to her side since her return.

I drove behind her with my headlights off as she wouldn't notice me. I watched her walk down the street and into the club. I threw a couple of bills at the bartender and told him to give her whatever she asked for.

It looked like she needed this, needed the escape. She looked on edge, stressed. It made me wonder what my brother was doing to her. He had become a monster, but he held a soft spot for her. He would not hurt her in any way, would he?

I sat back and watched her down glass after glass until she moved to the crowded dance floor. She halted in front of a couple who were sharing a heated moment, staring at them. I would give anything to know what was going on in that head of hers right about now.

She was about to turn around, she was about to see me. I had the option to move away and hide from her or stay and take a risk. If anything, she would probably confuse me with my brother.

However, I was out of time. She turned around, her eyes landing on mine, her breath catching in the back of her throat as the glass in her hand slipped through her fingers and shattered into pieces at her feet.

She took a step closer to me. She knew, she realized I wasn't her husband, I wasn't my brother. How she knew, I don't know, but it was written all over her face and I was not about to let the opportunity go to waste.

I grabbed her by the back of her neck, pulling her close to me. She was so close, so intoxicating, so...beautiful.

"Hello little lamb."

I expected her to have some type of reactions to my presence, but none like the one she had. She burst out laughing right in my face. She pushed me away, taking a step back and laughed.

"Fuck!" She said, as her laughter died off. "I'm dead aren't I? He killed me somehow, didn't he? Or was it Esme?"

"Why would my mother want to kill you?" I asked. As far as I knew, my mother had done everything she could to protect her.

"How did I end up in hell?" She asked, looking disappointed.

"You think you're in hell?" It was my turn to laugh now.

"Well, you're here aren't you? I don't think they would have opened the pearly gates for you."

"You're not dead, Isabella," I said, grabbing a hold of her again, running my hands up and down her arms, "and neither am I."

"No!" she shook her head over and over. "You're dead. I saw you die, you're dead."

"I'm right here."

She stared back at me in disbelief. I watched her eyes roll into the back of her head as she became limp in my arms.

"Shit!"


	20. Chapter 20

Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 _ **Isabella Cullen.**_

I felt as if I was floating although my body felt heavy at the same time. I was lying on something soft. My nose was buried in the smell of crisp, clean linen. Then it all came back to me.

My eyes snapped open. I rolled onto my back and jumped out of the bed I had been lying in.

I looked around the room frantically, realizing where I was immediately. I was in hell, in the underground, in his room.

Memories of last night came flooding back to me, or what I assumed was last night.

I had seen him, he had been there. He touched me, spoke to me, but how? He was dead, Anthony was dead. I had watched him die.

There was only a small difference separating Edward from Anthony, only one small mole and a dimple set them apart. It was Anthony that I saw, I was certain of it, the same Anthony who opened the door just now and walked into the room with a tray of food.

"Good to see my sleeping beauty is awake," he said, setting the tray down on a table.

Words failed me as I stared at him. I was walking a fine line between reality and whatever this was. Was I even awake? Was this all one big messed up dream?

"I brought you breakfast." His words interrupted my thoughts.

"Breakfast?"

"Well, it's just after eleven, but I thought breakfast would do."

Eleven in the morning? My hand flew to my mouth. By now, Edward would know that I was gone. Garrett is probably dead. I know there is no way Edward would let him live this time around, but now it was all my fault. Garrett's blood was on my hands, no different as if I would have killed him myself.

"You look a little pale there. You're not going to throw up are you?" Anthony asked, holding the bathroom door open for me.

"How are you here?" I asked, still not believing that any of this was real. Was I really seeing him or was he a ghost? "How are you alive?"

He chuckled. "It's all about who you know."

"I watched you bleed to death." I recalled that memory clearly. It was an image that would always haunt me.

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

"I felt your heart stop beating. I watched as you stopped breathing. I saw your eyes roll into the back of your head."

"I told you, it's all about who you know," he said.

I watched every step he took towards me. I expected him to disappear into thin air with each step that lead him closer to me.

He raised his hand up, my natural instinct caused me flinch away from him. He could not hide the hurt on his face, but what was he expecting? This was the man who had hurt me both emotionally and physically.

He brushed a stray piece of hair off of my face. He took one of my hands in his, while with his free one, began unbuttoning his shirt.

"What are you doing?" I could feel the panic building up in me.

He took my hand and placed it on this bare chest atop his heart.

"Do you feel that?" he asked.

I did, I felt it, the thump, thump, thump of his heart beating against my palm. Anthony was here standing before me, alive.

"Feel my heart beating, little lamb, feel that I'm alive. I'm not a ghost. I'm right here, right now in this room with you, alive," he said. His voice was tender and gentle with each word he spoke, that wasn't like the Anthony I knew at all.

"You're alive," I whispered.

"Now that we've cleared that up, eat," he said, letting go of my hand.

"I'm not…"

"Eat," he said in that menacing tone of his that I remembered all too well. The tone that sent chills up my spine. That was the Anthony I remembered.

Without having any other choice, I sat down and ate the food he had brought for me. I guess I was hungrier that I thought, because I had finished all the food in no time.

"Is my brother not feeding you?" He asked, astounded no doubt at how quickly I had devoured everything.

"I skipped lunch and dinner yesterday," I admitted.

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"I didn't want to be in the same room as your family," I said, regretting the words instantly, forgetting momentarily that this was Anthony I was speaking to and not Edward.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. I refused to look up at him. How could I have been so stupid to say that to him of all people.

I was shocked, he took me by surprise when he burst out laughing. It wasn't a soft laughter or the kind to lure me into a false sense of security. No, it was a full on laugh, the kind where he had to hold onto his belly to stop himself from rolling over onto the floor.

"Are you alright?" I found myself asking. His cheeks were bright red and his eyes watery. If he didn't stop, I was sure he would soon pass out.

"Oh, Isabella," he said, wiping away at his damp eyes. His laughter now dead. "If only I would have known back then…" he traileld off as he stared at me. He made me feel nervous, uncomfortable when he stared at me like that. "I would have stopped my brother from marrying you. I should have kept you all for myself."

I let out a nervous chuckle. How was I supposed to respond to that?

"You know I'll admit, I missed you. I had forgotten how entertaining that smart little mouth of yours was."

What a pity the feeling was not mutual, or was it? I don't know, I can't be sure. There was a part of me, maybe it was the sick and twisted part, that is happy to see him. It was as if a sense of relief flooded me knowing he was alive, he was okay. There had to be something wrong with me, that was the only rational explanation I could come up with for this feeling.

"Why did you bring me down here?" I asked.

"Wouldn't you rather be here with me than stuck on the estate with my family that you hate very much?"

"I never said I hated them," I defended.

"Not out loud, but admit it, you do," he chuckled. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

"Do they know you're alive?" I could not imagine he could have kept himself hidden from them down here. Was he not concerned about the others that saw him here also if he was meant to be dead?

"They know, except for my mother and sister."

"Why would you do that? How could you not tell them!?" I yelled out. "Your mother, do you know, do you have any idea what you put her through? The pain she was in, is still in? No one can so much as even mention your name to her because it will set her off."

My yelling at Anthony hadn't been the smartest idea. He put his palms on the table harshly, he slowly moved his chair back as he stood up and leaned over the table towards me.

I jumped out of my seat and moved across the room as fast as I could. I had forgotten how quickly his mood could change. Anthony had always been hot one second and cold the next.

"Seems you haven't learned much these past few years," he said, stalking over to me. I was trapped against the wall. I had nowhere to run, not without him being able to catch me faster than I could run.

"I want to go. I want you to take me back to Edward, right now," I said. Although, I couldn't even deny how pathetic my voice had sounded, like a scared little lamb.

"You don't get to make any demands," he said.

"Edward is going to find me and he'll find you here as well," I tried to threaten him. Edward was the Don after all, I knew that meant he was the head of the family, therefore, Anthony would have to listen to him or else. Although, Anthony had never been good with taking orders, not from his father and definitely not from his brother, what made me think things had changed?

"Funny thing that," he said, placing both his hands on the wall next to my head. "your husband knows you are here with me. However, I don't see him barging in here ready to save you again, do you?"

He was taunting me, I knew it. I was the prey and he was the predator, that is how it had always been. His nose skimmed along the side of my face, down my neck and back up again.

"I've missed you. Haven't you missed me?"

"Let me go please," I said, hearing a noise behind me, but he had me trapped I could not see anything past him. "You can't keep me here against my will."

"I can do whatever I want, little lamb."

"So nice of you to join us," Anthony said, with a smirk.

Edward stood behind him, the gun in his hand now pressed up against the back of his brothers head.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right here, right now?" Edward said.

Anthony let go of me. I ducked under his arm and moved away from the both of them.

"I found your wife." He shrugged. "You seem to be having trouble keeping track of her brother."

"I told you to stay here!" Edward yelled at his brother.

"And I didn't listen."

"Get out of my sight, Anthony. Get out before I do something I'll regret."

It was just like Anthony to never listen. He went and sat back down at the table we had been at minutes prior, with his arms folded across his chest, he leaned back in his chair watching his brother and I with amusement.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Edward asked.

"I'm sorry I scratched your car," I said.

"My car? You think this is about a fucking car!?" He yelled as he grabbed me by the shoulder, shaking me. "Garrett's in a fucking coma because of you, because of the stunt you pulled, because you can't seem to understand."

"What did you do to him?" I demanded.

"What I needed to do a long time ago. If he dies, his blood is on your hands."

"I can't believe you!" I yelled, shoving him away, as Anthony watched on with that sick smirk on his face.

"Me? You can't believe me? I've been trying to keep you safe and you are making it very difficult."

"You haven't done anything for me. You took me away from my life and made me your prisoner again."

"Stop with this bullshit already, Isabella. You have no idea the hell you have put me through these past few hours, the hell you put all of us through."

"Excuse me if I don't give a fuck," I spat.

"Trouble in paradise, brother?" Anthony laughed.

At that moment, Edward snapped. He raised his gun firing one bullet hitting Anthony in his shoulder.

"Motherfucker," he yelled. He fell off his chair holding onto his shoulder as the blood seeped down his arm.

"You know what, I'm done," Edward said. "I can't deal with this, with you anymore. This was a mistake, a big fucking mistake."

He grabbed a hold of my arm, dragging me alongside him. He dragged me down the hallway from Anthony's room and out into the bar area. The men and women in the room all fell silent as Edward dragged me through the tables and down another hall. He opened a door to a set of stairs that lead out into an empty alleyway.

"Where are we going?" I asked, as he continued to drag me out towards the main road. It was raining, our clothes were soaked through already, but he didn't seem phased.

Edward dragged me out into the middle of the road as cars honked their horns and swerved to avoid us. He still held onto his gun and I thought he was going to kill me right here in the middle of this busy road, but he didn't. He let go of my arm and took a step back.

"I've tired," he said. "I've tried everything I could to make you see my side, to make you see reason, but you are so caught up in your hatred that you can't see past that. Everything that I've done, has been to protect my family, to protect you."

He tucked his gun in the back of his pants and ran his hands through his soaked hair.

"You want to live in your bubble, go right ahead. There is a target on your head because of me, but all you want to is to go running around, playing games with your little friend, and run away from me. Go, I'm through," he said.

Just like that, he turned and left. He left me out here in the middle of the road in the pouring rain. He turned his back on me. By the time I snapped out of my own bubble, he was nowhere to be seen.

I tried to remember which way we had come, but the rain was so heavy it was nearly impossible.

He was right, he was right about everything. I was holding on to hate, I hated him and I didn't even know why anymore. He had tried to help me, but I never saw it that way because I had been so blind.

It was too late now, I had woken up too late and now I was nothing but a stupid fool on her knees crying in the streets.


	21. Chapter 21

_**Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69**_

 _ **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

 _ **Edward Cullen.**_

Unhinged, that is what I had become, that is what she had made me.

I didn't know what I had to do to make Isabella see reason. I didn't know what it would take for her to wake-up and realize the danger. Was Eleazar's death not enough for her? Did getting sprayed with bullets in a drive-by not send out a clear enough message of the danger we were in?

I love her, I do, but I can't do it anymore. I can't keep her safe when she seems so eager to find danger. She was innocent in everything, I knew that, but this was her life now, regardless if she wanted it or not. How can she still be so blind?

Did I leave her out on the street? No, I didn't. No matter how easy it would have been for me to walk away from her, I couldn't leave her.

It has been days since then and we had not spoken a word to each other. I haven't taken her back to the estate, instead I kept her down here, in the underworld. She hasn't left my room.

She was being stubborn. However, being stubborn and safe was better than being reckless and in danger.

"I have to head back to the estate. I have some business to take care of," I said, watching her watch the tv. She sat on my bed with her back against the headboard and her knees to her chest. I knew she could hear me, but she was choosing to ignore me.

"You are going to stay here with Anthony."

No matter how I felt about my brother, I knew that he could do what myself and Garrett failed to do, even with his shoulder bandaged up. I knew Anthony could keep her from running. She would never get past him, she was afraid of him and that fear would keep her safe.

"No," she said, tossing the remote aside. She shifted onto her knees.

"No?"

She shook her head.

"I want to go with you, please. I don't want to stay down here."

"Tough."

"Why?" she demanded, jumping off the bed. She was by my side in a flash, her hand on my shoulder trying to garner my attention.

"I don't have time for this," I said, brushing her off. "I'll be back...I don't know, could be a few days, might be a week, maybe more. You'll be fine down here."

I reached for the door, with my hand on the knob, ready to turn it and leave.

"I'm sorry!" she shouted. "I'm sorry, Edward, I know what I did was stupid. I know I should have listened to you. I'm sorry," she cried.

"Are you?"

I didn't turn to face her. I knew she was crying and I couldn't stomach to see that. She affected me in more ways than she will ever know or believe. I knew if I looked at her, I'd give in to her and that's not what she needed. She needed this, she needed the harshness, the cold shoulder, she needed it to wake-up.

"Yes, I am."

"I have to go. I'll call you later. There's a phone in the bedside drawer, you can't make any calls with it so don't bother."

I opened the door and walked out, slamming it shut behind me. My brother was waiting, leaning against his doorframe.

"You fuck this up and I'll fuck you up," I warned him.

He smirked, not saying anything. Behind me, I heard my door violently open. I heard her footsteps hurrying down the hall.

"Edward," she called out after me. I didn't look back. "Let go of me!" she yelled.

"Easy there, tiger," my brother said.

I looked over my shoulder. He had his good hand wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her back. She fought with everything she had, but Anthony wasn't letting go, not even after she kicked him in between his legs. It was painful to watch.

"Let her go," I said, watching as my brother hold on her loosened and she ran towards me. I stood there, waiting for her to reach me, with my arms by my side. She slammed into me with more force than I had expected, I had no choice but to wrap my arms around her waist otherwise we both would be on the floor. She held onto my neck tightly and buried her face into my shoulder.

"You can't leave me here," she cried.

"It's not your decision to make. I told you I don't have time for this."

"I'm sorry, Edward. I don't know what more I can say, please."

I lost it, I did. I was mad at her, still furious, but I couldn't deny that she affected me too much. The fool in me, held onto her a little tighter, buried his nose in her hair and whispered in her ear.

"No more games."

"No more games," she promised. "I'm sorry."

I nodded. I wasn't ready to forgive her just yet, but I was willing to give her a chance.

"Go and change, I'll wait here for you," I said. She nodded, reached up to me and placed a soft kiss on my cheek before running off.

I faced my brother, who had that look on his face, the one that I knew all too well.

"She has you wrapped around all of her fingers," he said.

"Shut it," I warned.

He held his hand up in front of him. "Not saying anything."

"You'd do good to remember that."

"I'm coming with you."

"The hell you are."

"Why not? I want to see my mother." he shrugged.

"Isn't it enough that you almost gave my wife a heart attack, now you want to give our mother one? You're dead Anthony, you're not coming back."

"She's my mother also," he said.

 _ **~MINY~**_

The drive back upstate was awkward to say the least. None of us had really spoken.. Anthony sat beside me in the front, while Isabella was in the back. My brother had tried to engage her in some small-talk, but she wasn't having it.

I wanted to call my father to let him know I would be bringing Anthony with me so he could have time to prepare our mother, but knowing our father, he would have probably sent her and Rosalie away.

Anthony was right, our mother needed to know. I knew the sort of person my brother was, I knew it was slowly driving him mad living in the shadows, having to hide all the time. I also knew it would only be a matter of time before he either lost it, came out himself, or slipped up.

It was midnight when we reached the estate. Our father was waiting for us outside. He didn't appear impressed.

I held Isabella's door open for her, letting my brother fend for himself with our father. He went to him and kissed both of his cheeks and walked inside.

"Why are you two doing this?" My father asked.

"You know as well as I do, this was a stupid idea to begin with. He can't hide forever," I said.

The three of us walked into the house to see my mother staring at Anthony.

"Mom," Anthony said.

Our mother's eyes darted between the both of us not believing what she was seeing.

"Carlisle, what's going on?" She asked.

"I can explain everything," our father said.

"He's standing here isn't it? You can see him as well? I'm not crazy am I?" She cried.

"I'm here, mom," Anthony said.

Our mother lets out a ragged breath before she rushed over to my brother.

We stood back watching mother and son as they embraced each other. Isabella didn't hold back her tears or the smile that played on her lips and I found that I could not either.

"How is this possible? How are you here?" Our mother asked, pulling away from her son.

"The devil never dies, mother," Anthony said. "I'm sorry for the pain that I have caused you. I love you, but it was better this way."

"I love you so much. I've missed you so much. Every day...every day I could not believe that you were not here with me," she cried.

"I'm here now. You're not going to get rid of me."

"How did your brother find you?" She asked. "Edward?"

"I…" How do I tell my mother I've been keeping her away from her son all these years.

"He knew the whole time," my brother said, throwing me to the wolves. "He helped me stay under the radar."

"You knew the whole time your brother was alive!?" Our mother yelled, shooting me an evil stare.

"And dad," Anthony added.

I was going to kill him, that is if our father didn't get to him first.

"Carlisle, how could you keep this from me?"

"I'm sorry, but I didn't have a choice," our father said.

"You all knew and you kept this from me!" she yelled, "and you." She turned to my brother. "I love you. You have no idea how happy I am to see you, but…"

Our mother attacked Anthony. She had never hit him as a child, not once, but she was not holding back now. She hit him over and over, and my brother stood there and took it all, he didn't make a sound he didn't move a muscle.

"Should we stop her?" Isabella asked.

"No, let her get it out. Better that she takes it out on him, it will save me from having to dig my father's grave in the morning."

"I could help you with that," she mumbled quietly, I wasn't certain I was meant to hear that or not.

From the top of the stairs, Carmen made her way down. She stopped at the halfway point when she saw the scene in front.

"Mio Dio," she said, her hand flying up to her mouth. "Anthony? How?"

Our mother, had stopped her assault on her son. She took a step back from him, taking all of him in.

"Zia Carmen, good to see you again," my brother said.

"Sei vivo?" Carmen asked, her shock matched my mother's.

"Si, zia." Anthony nodded.

"Bene." Our zia embraced my brother, kissing him on both of his cheeks.

"I'm sorry about zio," Anthony said.

"È quello che è," Carmen said.

"Hmm," Isabella mused beside me as she watched my aunt's interaction with my brother.

"It is good to see you, nipote, but if you'll excuse me," Carmen said, hurrying out of the room.

I grabbed Isabella's hand and pulled her behind me, leaving my parents with my brother. If my father was lucky, my mother would not murder him in his sleep tonight. I lead us into the dining room, turning on the lights as we entered.

"What are we doing in here?" Isabella asked.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know…"

"With Carmen, your face, what was all that about?" I asked. Isabella had spent a lot of time with my aunt. I knew she knew something that she wasn't telling me, I just did not know how to push my wife for that information.

"I...I don't know," she said.

"Please don't do this."

"Let me finish," she said, looking around us as if to make sure we were alone in the room.

"I like Carmen, in a way she's my only friend, but I don't know Edward, since Eleazar's death, she's been acting odd."

"Odd?" I questioned.

"I don't know. I think she's holding it all in, everything and I'm just waiting for her to explode. It's not normal to not cry, to not mourn your own husband."

"She has always been good at hiding her feelings. It's what women in her life, this life, need to do, that and my mother had given her some antidepressants. There is always a chance that will affect her mood, " I said.

"I didn't know that."

I had a feeling there was more to what Isabella was saying, much more. My wife knew something she was not telling me. I wanted to push her for more, but what I had learned with Isabella, is that going slow will get me what I wanted.


	22. Chapter 22

_**Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69**_

 _ **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

 _ **Isabella Cullen.**_

I was awoken by an odd tingling sensation slowly making its way up the inside of my thigh. I tried to squeeze my legs together only to find I couldn't. There was something, someone sitting in between them.

I opened my eyes to be met with Anthony's aroused ones. My head turned to my side, the side Edward had slept on last night. He could not be that deep in sleep as to not feel there was three of us in the bed. However, Edward wasn't there.

"What are you doing?" I asked, licking my dry lips.

"Waking you up, it's late," he said.

"Mission accomplished, now get off of me."

"No, I'm very comfortable where I am," he smirked, pressing his hips further into mine, I was surprised at how well he was able to hold his balance on one hand.

My eyes widened when I felt his erection. He didn't seem to be ashamed about it at all, in fact, he looked rather smug.

Where was Edward when I needed him?

"Get off," I said, pushing against his chest, but my effort seemed to be nothing but wasted energy as he did not even budge.

"Look at you, feisty little kitty," he said. "Stop pushing against me, Isabella, it's only making me harder."

"You're disgusting," I spat. "Get off of me, or do you want your brother to walk in and see this, so he can put you to sleep for good?"

"That's your first problem, little lamb," he whispered against my cheek. "Your husband has left the building."

"Anthony, please don't do this," I begged. I never knew how serious or how far Anthony would take something, that was one of the many things, on the long list of things, I hated about him.

"Since you asked nicely," he said, dragging out the words, making his displeasure known. He rolled off of me and onto the other side of the bed. "Go and get ready, we have to head out."

"Where are we going?"

"No questions. Get ready," he ordered.

Why would Edward do this to me? I get that he was still angry with me, but to leave me alone with the devil?

I changed into a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie. Anthony didn't appear to approve of my choice of clothing. I could care less if he approved or not, I wasn't out to impress him.

Anthony made sure I was well fed. In fact, he made me breakfast himself, making sure I ate everything he put in front of me.

"Time to go," he said, taking my hand in his tight grip. I was left with no choice but to follow next to him.

"Where are we going?" I asked, when we had reached the front porch. Anthony led me down and around the house, towards the woods that surrounded the property, hidden from anyone's view.

"Just a little walk through the woods," he said. He let go of my hand, as he fished through his jacket to retrieve something.

"You don't strike me as the sort of person to go on a leisurely stroll," I laughed. However, my laughter caught in my throat when Anthony locked and loaded his gun in front of my face.

"You'd be correct," he said. "Come on, move along, we don't have all day."

An overwhelming sense of fear crashed through me with such force. I was unable to move a single muscle in my body. I had never been this afraid, not even before. This was it, this was the end of the road for me, the end of my life. Anthony was taking me out into the woods to end me.

Is that why there was no one in house, not Esme, not Carmen, not even little Sofia? Had they all agreed to this? Did they finally decided it was time to get rid of me? I had become too much of a nuisance?

"You can either walk, or I can throw you over my shoulder," Anthony said.

What was the point? Why take me out into the woods when there was no one here? Had that been Esme's request, don't stain her porch with blood?

"Why are you crying?" He asked.

Was I? I couldn't make my hand move to my face to check for myself. Anthony reached up to my face, using the pads of his thumbs, I felt him wipe away my tears. I was crying after all.

"Move," he said, putting his arm around me and resting it on the small of my back. He pushed me along as we made our way into the surrounding woods, walking deeper and deeper until the house was out of view.

We were in a clearing. There were fallen down trees and logs all around us. Three trees in front of me, were painted with red and white targets. Is this where they took their victims, their enemies? Were they buried under my feet?

"Stand over here," Anthony instructed, guiding me to a designated spot. "Here, take this."

"What?" I asked, seemingly finding my voice for the first time since we left the house. Did he just offer me his gun? If it weren't for the fact that he was holding it out towards me, I would have thought I had heard him wrong. Was this some sort of joke? Was he playing mind games with me again? I didn't know how much more I could take.

"Come on now, don't be shy, it's not going to bite you," he said. "Steady your hands first, the safety is off."

"Anthony...what are you doing?"

He frowned his brows in confusion, as if my question made no sense to him.

"I'm going to teach you how to shoot. What did you think I brought you out here for?"

"Teach me to what?"

"Shoot, kitty, shoot."

I let out a nervous laugh. He wasn't serious, was he? Teach me to shoot?

"What's the catch?" I could not help but ask. Anthony never did anything without having an ulterior motive. He was not going to teach me to shoot just because he could, no, there had to be another reason behind it.

"I figured you don't know how to properly defend yourself should the need arise, and I doubt my brother has taught you."

"Will...umm, will the need arise?"

He shrugged, chewing on his bottom lip at the same time. "The need is always there, Isabella. You never know when you need to save your own life, or someone else's."

 _ **~MINY~**_

After three hours, it was fair to say I was not a natural born shooter. Anthony, he'd had a lot of patience with me, but that patience was now slowly slipping away.

"Fuck, Isabella, it's not that hard!" he yelled.

"That's easy for you to say!" I yelled back.

"Look at that big red dot on that tree, look at it. It's huge, how can you miss it."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"It's not that difficult."

"I'm sorry."

"Aim again. Stand how I showed you, relax your shoulders."

I did as he said. Feet shoulder width apart, back straight, relax shoulders. Simple, right? Not for me. I aimed, I fired and I missed again. I was so frustrated, I threw the gun on the ground not realizing that it would go off from the impact. Both Anthony and I jumped up as the gun went off, firing one bullet. God knows where it went, but thankfully it had missed the both of us.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" He shouted, almost pulling out his hair.

"I'm sorry."

"Are you trying to kill us both?"

"I'm sorry," I said.

He came toward me with his arms stretched out in my direction. I stumbled back, flinching away, waiting for the impact of his blow to reach me, but nothing happened.

"Stop flinching away from me, I'm not going to hit you," he said, with a leveled tone.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing for everything."

"I'm…" I caught myself before I uttered another sorry.

"You're really bad at this, aren't you?" he chuckled.

"Yep." I chuckled along with him, he was right, I wasn't just bad, I was a disaster. Who would have thought so much went into shooting a gun. It was heavier than I thought and made me lose my balance every time the bullet left its chamber. However, I didn't want to give up just yet. I knew that I could do this.

"Let's head back, before Edward arrives and realizes we are both gone," he said, retrieving the gun from the ground.

There was a car coming towards us, I could see its headlights as it approached through the path in between the trees.

"Too late," I said. "I think he found us."

Edward was unusually calm as he climbed out of the car. The first thing I noticed was his shirt. He had tried to cover it up with his jacket, but there was no hiding the dried blood on it, that, and his red knuckles. I wondered who had been on the receiving end of his anger today?

"Nothing?" Anthony asked his brother.

"Nothing that I didn't already know," Edward said. "What are you two doing out here?"

"I was trying to teach my little sister-in-law the fine art of firing a gun."

"Oh."

"She's terrible," Anthony said.

"I am not…"

Anthony gave me a look as if challenging me to defend myself. He knew I couldn't.

"She can't be that bad?" Edward inquired.

"We've been here three hours and she keeps missing that big ass target. Look at the size of it. How can anyone miss it? Sofia wouldn't miss it."

"Show me," Edward said.

"No!" I said. It was bad enough that Anthony would taunt me to the end about this, I didn't need Edward joining his brother.

"Come on."

Edward took his jacket off and placed it on a nearby log. His shirt was not only bloodstained in the front, but had a clear handprint on his back.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I took his appearance in. He turned in time to notice my discomfort, but did not appear apologetic at all, although I never had expected him to be.

He pulled his gun out from the back of his pants, holding it out to me. I knew the drill by now.

I took it from him and went to stand where I had before.

I raised the gun ready to fire it when I felt him come and stand behind me. He placed his hands over mine firmly.

"Remove the safety," he said, waiting for me to follow his order. "Put your feet closer together, straighten your shoulders, lean your back into me."

I did everything he said. This was going to be a disaster, more so than it had been before. Edward's presence here was having a different effect on me, or maybe it was just his close proximity. The feel of his hands on mine, made my own shake. His warm breath on the crook of my neck made my body shiver.

He held my shaking hands steady in his. "Look down the top, can you see the barrel is on target with the dot?"

"Yes."

"Move it to the left, only a little."

I did.

"Now shoot."

I did.

My mouth hung open in astonishment. I had hit the target right in the center.

"I did it," I said, suddenly feeling giddy. I could do this, I knew I could. "Let's do it again."

I tried a few more times with Edward's hands still holding my own. I managed to hit the target.

"I'm going to let go of you now," he said.

"No."

"You got this," he encouraged.

He very slowly removed his hands from mine and rested them on my hips. _I can do this_ , I said to myself as I let out a deep breath.

One.

Two.

Three.

I hit the target. I did it on my own. In my own excitement, I turned around and leapt into Edward's arms, wrapping my arms around his neck with the gun still firmly in my fingers. I didn't hesitate and before I knew what I was doing, my lips were on his.

 _What am I doing?_ I thought. My eyes snapped open, but his were closed. I tried to pull my head back, my mouth away from his, but he held onto the back of my neck, holding me there, trapping my lips against his.

I won't lie. I had enjoyed the moment we shared until Anthony cleared his throat and interrupted us. However, Edward did not seem to care. When he pulled away and set me on my feet, he could not hide the lust lying in his eyes. I'll admit, I liked the way he was looking at me now, he held the exact same look that man had for that woman in the club, wanting, longing. It was nice to have someone look at me that way, even if it was Edward.

"I think we should head back, it's getting cold out here," Edward said.

I was now sitting in the car waiting for the brothers. Edward had pulled Anthony to one side. They were deep in a conversation, even with the windows of the car down, they spoke in hushed whispers, making it impossible to understand a word. I wondered if they were talking about the 'incident' as Esme had put it. I had overheard her and Carmen talking about a murder that was linked to the family somehow. Esme had said that there was a possibility that Carlisle or Edward may be arrested for it even though they hadn't committed it.

Moments later, Edward entered the car, locking the doors just as Anthony tried to climb in.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"He can walk back. Maybe the wolves will get to him before he reaches the front door."

"There are wolves out here?"

"Wolves, bears, squirrels, I don't care, as long as something kills him." he shrugged.

"Is everyone else back at the house?" I asked, with caution. I didn't want him to think anything of my question.

"Rosalie and Sofia have left the country. Emmett escorted them to the airport today."

"Why?" I asked. Wasn't that a little extreme.

"Emmett has a tendency to over-exaggerate where my sister and niece's safety are concerned, no one can blame him for that."

"And your dad?"

"What about him?"

"Where is he?"

"Back at the house, why?" he asked, taking his eyes off the road to glance at me.

"No reason," I shrugged.

He took one of my hands in his and brought it up to his lips, kissing the back of my knuckles.

"Why, Isabella?" He asked again, with no hint of argument in his voice. His tone made it clear that he wanted an answer.

"I...umm...I overheard your mom and Carmen talking about what happened to a body," I said, as my eyes wandered to his bloodstained shirt. "She was telling Carmen about the FBI being involved."

"That was a set up, we didn't commit the crime. Not this time at least," he said. I was happy that he was telling me something, and that he didn't just ignored my question or shut me down. "The Feds know this, but that didn't mean they didn't want to have a chat. They have nothing to hold us with. Signing someone's name doesn't mean they committed the crime."

"You were arrested?"

"No, not arrested, just went down for a chat," he smiled.

"And your dad?"

"The same."

Great, I thought. It would not have bothered me one bit if the FBI had kept Carlisle with them.

"So if you didn't kill this person, then who did?"

"We don't know. There's someone that we can't see, someone who keeps getting past us," he said and I could not believe how open he was being with me about all of this.

"Do you think it's the same person that killed Eleazar?"

He shrugged as he pulled the car up to the house, shutting off the engine.

"This isn't going to be permanent, Dolcezza. I'm doing everything I can to find out who this person or persons is. I don't need you to worry about it."

"Are you ever going to forgive me?" I asked. I wasn't stupid, I knew he hadn't forgiven me for running, I hadn't forgiven myself. I didn't feel guilty about running, but I did feel guilty about Garrett. I could not believe Edward had put him in a coma. I wanted to ask what he had done to him, but something told me I won't like Edward's answer.

"Is Garrett okay? Is he awake?"

"He's fine. He's in New Jersey," he said.

"What's he doing there?"

"One of those things you don't need to know. However, he'll be back later tonight."

 _ **~MINY~**_

I had been awake for a while now, but I didn't want to get out of bed. Outside, the weather had gone south. Yesterday it had been beautiful and sunny, and now it was gray and miserable. The loud thunder clashed outside as the rain seemed to be never-ending. I turned on my side and pulled the covers tighter around me. I was content to lay here a little bit longer before getting out and facing my father-in-law for another day.

Carlisle made no attempt to hide his displeasure with me. The man knew how to hold onto his anger, and he was still very much angry at me for what I had done.

The bedroom door burst open, as Edward came rushing in with his gun drawn.

That got my attention. I jumped out of the bed as he placed his finger to his lips silently telling me to keep quiet. With the greatest of ease, he closed the door behind him, locking it.

"What's going on?" I whispered.

"There is someone in the house," he said.

"There's a few people in the house, Edward."

He looked at me as if I were completely stupid and in this moment that is exactly how I felt.

"Someone that shouldn't be here."

On the floor below us, a piercing gunshot rang out. It was so loud I had to block my ears.


	23. Chapter 23

Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 _ **Edward Cullen.**_

The gunfire from downstairs echoed through the house.

Isabella covered her ears in an attempt to shield herself from the loud noise.

I rummaged around the bedroom, pulling out every weapon I knew to be in here and securing them onto myself.

"What are you doing with all of that?" Isabella asked.

"We're outnumbered down there. They took the guards out that were stationed along the perimeter. I'm not taking any chances."

Marco had come for his revenge. I knew it was him, I saw him as he exited his car surrounded by his heavily armed men. There were eight of them that I could see, including Marco.

I had had two armed guards at the gate, six after Isabella's stunt. I didn't know how many of them were still standing.

I had called for backup, but given our location any reinforcements was hours away, that's why I had Garrett send for some of our men with the helicopter, but even with that they were still an hour away at best.

"Here," I said, handing her a gun. "Remember what you learned yesterday. Don't think too much about it, just aim and shoot if you have to."

"Edward, I can't," she said, shaking her head.

"I told you, don't think about it. It's us or them. They kill us or we kill them. I don't know about you, but I don't feel like dying today."

"Shit! You know I'm terrible right?"

"Just stay behind me," I said.

"Why can't I lock myself in here?"

"Because they are spread out all over the house."

I placed my hand on the doorknob, ready to open the door, ready to see what awaited us on the other side.

"Wait!"

"What?" I asked, irritated.

"Where's your mother? Where's Carmen?"

"They are in the panic room. There was no time to get you down there before they came in."

"You have a panic room?"

"Just stay behind me," I said.

I opened the door with the utmost of care, very slowly peeking my head out. The bedroom we were in was located on the curve of the stairs. There were no walls or another bedroom next to it, nowhere anyone could hide.

We tiptoed our way down the hall. Isabella had a death grip on my sweater, but nevertheless, for once in her life she followed instructions and stayed behind me.

I didn't take us down the main staircase. If I had, I might as well have put a big target on our heads and wave a flag. No, we went down a set of hidden stairs, that came from the bedroom my brother was occupying. The stairs led down into the office, behind the oversized curtains, against the wall next to the window. If someone was in this room, we would be shielded from their view.

"Edward, where are we?" Isabella whispered.

I turned to her, there was enough light in our position where she could see my face. I gave her a disapproving glare, it was my way of telling her, _keep your mouth shut or you're going to get us killed._

There was commotion that could be heard on the other side. Two, maybe three, people struggling and then a swoosh of air from a gun with a silencer. It had to be one of us, because they did not come in here quietly. Nevertheless, I would not take any chances.

I carefully, as not to ruffle the curtain more than needed, guided us along the wall to the end. Peeking my head out slightly, I saw my brother-in-law and two bodies on the ground.

Emmett spotted me as we came out from behind the curtain.

"To think, you said I was over-exaggerating when I sent Rose and Sofie away," he said.

"Oh my God." I heard Isabella's gasp behind me as she looked at the scene before her.

"How many more are there?" I asked.

"Anthony and dad have it covered out there. Garrett did great from upstairs with that rifle."

"Garrett's here?" Isabella asked. "I thought you said you put him in coma?"

"Not now," I said.

"What do you mean, 'Not now'? That's a speedy recovery."

I turned to her, tugging on her hand harshly, making her stumble towards me.

"I said, not now."

"Marco and one of his men are still unaccounted for, but I don't know if they've found them since I've been in here," Emmett said.

Above us, we could hear the helicopter returning. I went to the window, watching it as it was settled down on the grass. I watched as my brother ran to them, giving out orders.

"At least we have reinforcements now," Emmett said.

"A little late," I muttered.

"Better late than never."

My watched vibrated against my wrist, my brother was calling.

"What?" I answered.

"All clear on my end. All clear on Garrett's end," he said.

"And dad?"

"He's downstairs, Vince is in the house, they're looking for Marco."

"Alright."

"I'm going to do a sweep of the house with security, make sure we haven't missed anything or anyone."

"Marco's still in the house?" Emmett asked.

"He's outnumbered now," I said.

"He wasn't prepared."

No, he wasn't, it was as if Marco wasn't expecting much of a fight. My main problem isn't that he was or wasn't prepared, but that he knew where we were. Had I been that stupid not to notice one? Had one of them seen us as we left the city? Did they follow us back here unnoticed?

No one knew of the estate, no one but the family, the immediate family.

"Let's go," I said, tugging on Isabella's hand.

Emmett went out the door first checking up and down the hall.

"All clear," he said. "I'll go check the kitchen and around the back."

I nodded. I found my father in the living room, he had come in at the same time from the other end. He looked at me, shaking his head.

"I told you this would happen!" he yelled. "I told you to let me handle it and you didn't listen." He continued with his rant.

"Edward," Isabella whispered, had noticed the same thing that I had.

Marco stood behind my father with a smirk on his face and his gun raised to my father's head. My father was completely oblivious to it all as he continued on his rant.

Marco could see me, he knew that I would kill him, but his mission was to kill my father first.

I aimed my gun at my father and fired, shooting right through his forearm, straight into Marco.

I let go of Isabella's hand, making my way to Marco. He wasn't dead. The shot I had fired through my father hit him in his abdomen. I stood over Marco, watching him as he coughed up blood, getting it all over my shoes. He made one last pathetic attempt to reach for his fallen weapon before I fired a round to his heart, and the last one between his eyes.

"Are you alright?" I asked Isabella. She stood frozen on her spot with her eyes wide,staring into space. For a brief moment I wondered if this was the final straw it took for her to lose her sanity once and for all.

"Hey, look at me," I said, tilting her chin up until her eyes met mine. "Deep breaths."

"You...you shot...you shot your father," she stuttered out.

I chuckled. "I didn't shoot him," I said, taking the gun out of her hands and tucking it into the back of my pants. "I shot through him."

"But…"

"He'll be fine," I assured her.

We turned around as my father let out a staggered groan, rolling onto his side.

"See, he's fine."

 _ **~MINY~**_

 _ **Three days later.**_

 _ **Manhattan, New York City.**_

"Where's Leo now?" My father asked.

"I don't know." I shrugged.

Without Marco, Leo had nowhere to hide anymore and no protection, yet he still managed to evade us.

"I told you to listen to me," my father said. "None of that would have happened if you would have listened to me."

"If I would have listened to you, we all would have been dead."

He paced the floor back and forth, holding onto his forearm as he did. I hadn't done any damage to him. He had a simple entry and exit wound. He was in pain, but he was too stubborn to take any painkillers for it.

My brother sat idly on the couch watching as our father and myself attempted to hold our tempers and not kill each other. His eyes would dart down to his phone every now and again.

"How can that stupid, little, fat piece of shit keep slipping away!?" My father shouted.

"You need to calm down," I said. "Or are you trying to tear your stitches out again?"

"I want my money. I want Leo, fuck, I want that puttana of a daughter as well."

My brother let out a loud laugh, drawing mine and our father's attention.

"No way," he laughed. "No fucking way."

"Is there something you find funny, Anthony?" Our father asked, not making any attempt to hide the bitterness in his tone. "Does this situation amuse you?"

"Oh, yeah," my brother said, "It amuses me greatly. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some important business."

My brother patted our father on the back and kissed both of his cheeks.

"You need to relax," he said. "Think about mom and what she'd do to you if you tore your stitches again."

Our father glared at him, not at all impressed by his son.

"What business do you have that is more important than this?" He asked.

"You need to sit down and relax. You're an injured man. Let your son get you something to drink."

"Relax? You want me to relax?" Our father questioned as he shoved Anthony away from him.

"Yes, relax. Trust us, alright. Edward and I are going to sort everything out."

I looked at my brother with a raised brow, wondering what it was he knew that I didn't. What was he keeping from me this time?

Anthony ignored our father's harsh shove. Instead, my brother helped our father to the couch that he had previously occupied and fixed him a drink.

"What the hell are you playing at?" I asked, noting the powder he had stirred through our father's drink.

"Shh." He shrugged.

It only took a few short minutes for the drink to have the desired effect on our father. His eyes closed, his head dropped and the glass slipped out of his hands rolling onto the carpet by his feet.

"Why?" I asked my brother.

"He was getting on my nerves. Besides, he could use the nap."

I shook my head in disbelief. Although this had not been the first time my brother had put our father to sleep, he usually had a reason behind it, but this time…

"We need to leave," he said.

"Why?"

"Trust me, you are going to love this."


	24. Chapter 24

Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 _ **Isabella Cullen.**_

We were back in Manhattan once again. I was grateful to be back though. There had been no freedom at the estate, no one else to talk to, no other people to see and nowhere to go.

There was one thing I did hate, one thing that bothered me, and that was Vito. I felt bad because the man had not done anything to me, in fact, he hadn't uttered a single word. Vito's only crime was taking Garrett's place.

I needed to see Garrett for myself. I needed to see with my own eyes that he was alright, I couldn't just accept the words from Edward. Garrett had left the estate after the shooting, Edward had sent him away. I needed to apologize to him. Because of me he had been hurt again. I just prayed that he would forgive me one more time.

"Do you know where Garrett is?" I asked Vito, who was sitting at the kitchen bench with a coffee and the paper in hand.

Anthony had made the headlines. That was publicity none of them had wanted.

 _Anthony Cullen, son of notorious underworld boss, Carlisle Cullen, back from the dead_.

No one knew how the media had gotten a hold of that information. Carlisle wasn't happy about it. However, Carlisle wasn't happy about anything these days. I would never say it out loud, but I was smiling on the inside when Edward had shot his father. Does that make me a bad person because I had taken joy in his pain?

Vito looked up at me from the top of the paper and then continued on with his reading.

"You know, it's rude to ignore someone when they are talking to you," I said. "I know you're not deaf."

Vito continued on his mission to ignore me. It was very frustrating. If we were going to be stuck together, he could at least have the decency to talk to me, was that really a hard thing to do?

I stood there in front of him on the other side of the kitchen table, impatiently drumming my nails, hoping that the noise would irritate him.

I heard him as he let out a deep sigh. He gently lowered the paper and folded it up neatly, pushing it to one side. He looked at me, clearly irritated. He motioned with his eyes to his left. I followed his eyes to see what he was on about, but there was nothing that I could see except a fruit bowl.

"Do you want a banana?" I asked.

He stared back at me with a look of utter disbelief. Did he not realize that this would be so much easier if he voiced what it is he actually wanted, right?

"I don't speak gestures. If you want to tell me something, use that thing on your face just below your nose," I said. He wasn't the only one frustrated by this situation.

"He's at the door," Vito said.

"You can talk," I said, clapping my hands. "Praise Jesus, it's a miracle."

"Don't get used to it."

"Are you not allowed to talk to me or are just being annoying?" I asked.

"You and I have nothing to talk about. I'm here to do a job, not to be your friend," he said, as he sipped on the rest of his coffee.

I stared back at him with the same look he had given me seconds ago. "You, I don't like," I said.

He shrugged, obviously not bothered. "Door," he said.

Right, door, Garrett. Has he been out there the whole time?

I opened the door to the right of the elevator, sticking my head out into the hall. Garrett stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

"You are not pulling this fucking shit on me again," he said, pushing on my shoulders until I was back inside.

"I'm not running, I wanted to talk to you."

"Right. Get back inside. I have nothing to say to you."

"Please, I'm sorry," I begged.

"I'm not falling for that again, Isabella. You never learn, do you?" he sighed.

"Just come inside, please."

"I can't leave my post," he said.

"Even though there are two others out there."

"I can't leave my post," he said again.

"Well, get grumpy to fill in for you," I said. "You are going to talk to me whether you like it or not."

"Grumpy?"

"Vito," I clarified.

However, Garrett wasn't giving in. I knew he was upset with me, but he, at least had to give me the chance to apologize.

"If you won't come in, can you at least take me somewhere? Vito won't take me anywhere." I lied, I hadn't even asked him.

Garrett took his phone out of his coat pocket and typed something quickly. I knew what he was doing.

"Why are you asking him if you can take me? He said I could come and go as I please," I said.

"Because that's not my job anymore," he said, as his phone chimed.

"What did he say?"

"Let's go, grab your coat." He looked up at Vito, whistling for his attention, signaling for him to move it.

I turned, jogging up the stairs to grab my coat and my shoes, but not before sticking my tongue out at Vito as he went past me. Childish, yes, but in my defense, Vito is an asshole.

 _ **~MINY~**_

"He told me he put you in a coma," I said, as we sat on the park bench.

Garrett chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. Something told me I had just caught Edward in a lie.

"Unconscious, yes, coma, no," he said.

"Well, you don't have any broken bones so that's a good sign," I said. I wanted to laugh at myself with how stupid I sounded. "I am so sorry Garrett."

"You keep saying you're sorry and yet…" he trailed off. "When are you ever going to learn?" he asked. "Do you have any idea the danger you put yourself in?"

"I know it was stupid." I didn't need anyone else to remind me of that. "I just...I couldn't...I needed to get away from them, all of them."

"Do you want to know what I think?" He asked.

"Do I?"

"I think you need help," he said.

"Help?" I gave him a funny look. There was no one that could help me, not even him.

"Professional help, Isabella."

"I am not crazy," I said, standing up from the bench.

"Hey," he called after me, grabbing onto my upper arm as he walked alongside me. "I didn't say you were crazy. I do however, think you need someone to talk to, about everything that's happened to you. So that you can deal with everything better."

"How exactly am I going to go and see a therapist without Edward knowing? What would I say to them? What do I do if they recognize me? 'Oh hey doctor, I was kidnapped, forced to marry my husband and his twin brother abused me for months!'" I said, not realizing I was shouting at Garrett, until he placed his hand over my mouth.

In a way, I knew Garrett was right. I needed help. I needed someone to help me sort all the thoughts and feelings in my head. I needed someone to teach me to deal with my nightmares.

"You can talk to me. I can help you," he said.

"You?" I wanted to laugh. He could not be serious, only he was. "Why? So you can run and tell Edward? Record everything and play it for him?"

Garrett's loyalty would always be with Edward and never with me. Edward was his boss and he could be intimidating on the best of days. Garrett knew all too well what Edward was capable of doing, after all he had been on the receiving end more than once.

"The only thing I would ever tell him is if you try and pull another stunt," he said.

I walked a few paces ahead of Garrett. I was thankful when he didn't pull me back or walk next to me. Even though I knew he was right behind me, he left me by myself. He didn't try and stop me or tell me where to go.

I looked around at the other individuals in Central Park. People taking their dogs for a walk, playing with their children, people walking aimlessly. Some noticed me, some weren't even paying attention to themselves. No one knew me anymore or no one cared. I was dead.

I turned back around. Garrett halted in front of me.

"I'm angry," I said, looking up at him. "I'm angry and I don't know why."

"You have every right to be angry, Isabella," he said.

"I don't know what I'm suppose to be angry at anymore."

Garrett reached out and pulled me into his arms, holding me in a gentle hug. I was stunned by his actions, it was the last thing I had expected him to do.

"Anger is good. Feeling angry is better than feeling nothing," he said, resting his chin on top of my head. "If you felt nothing it would mean you were giving up and you should never give up, no matter what."

"I don't want to be though. I want to let it out, I don't want to let it eat away at me anymore, I just don't know how."

"Do you know what you need?"

"What?"

"A few rounds with a punching bag. We can even tape a picture of Anthony on it."

"And Carlisle," I added.

"I'll find you a family picture," he laughed.

"Does this mean you forgive me?" I asked.

"I forgive you, but this is the last time. Don't ever pull a stunt like that on me again."

We had left Central Park. Garrett had insisted on taking me shopping, he said it would make me feel better if I gave Edward's card a good workout. I can't say it made me feel better, but it was fun. I had never spent so much money before. I didn't know if Edward was going to be upset with me or not. However he was the one that had given me the card, told me to get whatever I wanted.

It was nice to buy things for myself for a change, instead of having things mysteriously appear, even underwear. Garrett didn't come in with me, he waited outside. It was sign he was showing that he trusted me.

"Finished?" Garrett asked, as I walked out of the store.

"Can we go back home now?"

"Oh, thank God," he sighed, relieved.

As we arrived back at the building, the one person I thought I would never have to see again was arguing with the concierge.

"Fuck!" Garrett cursed.

"I don't care, I need to get up there. I'm his girlfriend," Janina said, staring down at the poor

young man behind the desk.

"Miss, I am sorry, but no one is allowed on the top floor without authorization," the young man said.

"I have authorization!" Janina yelled.

"Miss, you are not on the approved visitors list. Please leave the building or I will have security escort you out."

"Fine. I will call Edward myself and you can see that I have authorization. I am going to make sure you lose your job after this," she said.

I don't know what it was about this woman that made my blood boil. Maybe it was because she had slept with Edward? Maybe it was because she tried to seduce him with me, his wife, under the same roof? Or maybe, just maybe, all that anger that I was holding onto, all came to the surface.

"You need to leave," I said, gaining her attention.

I took a step towards her, but Garrett grabbed my arm holding me back.

"Let's not go from zero to one hundred," he said in my ear.

"You," Janina said, pointing her long fingernail in my face. "You have ruined my life. The secret wife that no one knew of, or even saw. No wonder he kept you hidden, look at you."

"Miss Orsani, I think it's best you leave now," Garrett said.

"I came here to see Edward and I am not leaving until I do."

"I will inform Mr. Cullen of your visit."

"Why are you being so formal to this slut?" I asked Garrett.

"Excuse me?" Janina said.

"Do you not understand English very well, Janina . Is puttana, better?" I said.

She laughed, her heels clicking on the floor as she came towards me. The concierge was ready to call security. Garrett raised his hand, telling him to stop.

"Let's not use big words that we do not understand little girl," she said.

"You're pathetic, you know that?" I said.

"Yet, he wants me."

"Does he?"

I was surprised with myself that I was doing this. Why was I defending Edward? Why was I arguing with this woman when she wasn't in the wrong. Edward had slept with her of his own free will, hadn't he? Or was there something that he was hiding from me again?

"He asked me to come here because he knew you were gone," she said.

"Why would he do that if he isn't here himself?"

"Listen here you little bitch…"

"No," I said, shrugging out of Garrett's grasp. I grabbed a fist full of Janina's hair and stood right in her face. "You are here to see a man who used you and tossed you aside."

"No, he did not," she said, her teeth grinding together.

"Because you are trash," I added.

Her eyes narrowed, and her breathing became ragged. She made a play to grab my hair only to have Garrett stop her. He put one hand around my waist, trying to maneuver me away from her. However, I was not letting go. I had let all that anger come to the surface, I was not going to drown in it again, not when letting it out felt this good.

"Thank you for visiting us, Miss Orsani," Garrett said.

Janina didn't seem to care much for Garrett, in fact, she ignored him altogether. Garrett had managed to remove my fingers from her hair as Janina took a step back. She smiled at me, as if she had won some game. Is that what she saw this as, a game?

"Remember one thing, little girl," she said. "I am the trash that fucked your husband, who then got in bed with you. What do you think you are to him? Hmm...You are trash to him, little girl, that is why he keeps you hidden away."

"Janina," Edward's voice called out. He jogged over to us with Anthony following behind.

I don't know what I had expected him to do? Come and stand by my side, maybe? Of course he didn't do that, no, he went to her. He spun her around to face him, with his hands on her shoulders.

I closed my eyes, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself, but it was useless. I had reached a point of no return. I had reached a point where I did not care.

Anthony stood by me, only one step in front. He was watching the scene in front of him, his brother and his brother's mistress. My eyes wandered down Anthony's back. I knew he had a gun tucked in the back of his pants, I knew Anthony never used the safety.

Blinded by anger, blinded by rage and a newfound freedom, I didn't give it a second thought. I knew I would have to be fast because Anthony was faster.

I reached for the gun in the back of his pants without Anthony making any sort of effort to stop me.

"No!" Garrett shouted.

Although it was too late, I had already pulled the trigger. The loud bang that echoed from the weapon in my hand snapped me back to reality, to what I had just done. To the crime I had committed. To the blood on my hands.


	25. Chapter 25

Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 _ **Anthony Cullen.**_

It had been funny how it all played out. I always knew Isabella had it in her. Secretly, I had been waiting for her to snap and she did not disappoint.

Watching Janina fall limp into my brother's arms, a pool of blood forming at their feet, it was highly amusing, made just that more entertaining because it had been this tiny little lamb, who had been the one to take out Janina.

"What have I done?" she mumbled.

"Good girl," I said, placing a kiss on her cheek. "How about you hand that over." I held my hand out for the weapon.

"Get her out of here!" my brother shouted.

"I'll take her," I said to Garrett.

The way he looked at Isabella did not go unnoticed. He had completely ignored me, waiting for her to consent.

My little lamb gave him a small nod. I took her hand in mine, guiding her towards the elevator.

"Is she dead?" She asked, as we stepped inside my brother's place.

"Oh yeah, she's dead." I laughed. "You surprised me little lamb, and that's a hard thing to do."

"Why are you laughing about this?" She asked. "How is this funny? I just killed someone. I took someone's life!" she yelled.

"Someone who deserved it. She had it coming to her."

"Is that suppose to make me feel better?"

"Let me ask you something," I said, getting right in front of her, right up in her personal space, taking her face in between my hands.

"Did it not feel good to pull that trigger?"

"I…"

"It felt good, didn't it, her life in your hands," I said, skimming my nose along the side of her face. "You loved it," I whispered in her ear. "Just let it go and embrace it, little lamb."

"I'm not you," she said, maneuvering away from me, out of my grasp, out of my touch. My hands felt cold at the lack of contact.

"Your first kill is always the hardest, it's the one that will always stay with you."

"First!?" she shouted. "Do you think I have any plans of taking another person's life?"

"You didn't plan to take Janina's, yet here we are. The spontaneous kills are always the most fun." I shrugged.

"Oh my God," she said. She closed her eyes and covered her mouth with her hand. Her body began to shake with silent sobs.

"Do you want something to drink?" I asked.

I could not be sympathetic to her over this. She hadn't done anything wrong, even if she didn't see it that way. In fact, she had done us a favor by taking Janina out.

I left her standing there in the middle of the living room as I headed down the hallway to the back room where my brother stored his liquor. I fixed her a shot of tequila.

When I returned, my brother and her were having a silent stare off. My brother stood on the other side of the room with his hands tucked into his pockets, his face an unreadable mask, he gave nothing away. This was when the monster came out.

"Here," I said, holding the shot glass out to her.

She took it from me, her hand still shaking. She downed the shot in one swig.

"Better?" I asked.

However, she offered no response. She was holding herself together better than I would have expected. I mean, she hadn't gone into shock, not yet at least.

"What the hell were you thinking?" My brother asked, although I didn't know which one of us he was speaking to.

"Come on, brother, it wasn't so bad. Isabella actually did you a favor," I said.

"A favor?" He chuckled, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "She hasn't done me any favors!" he shouted.

"Let's not be too dramatic."

"No, he's right," Isabella said.

"No, he's not. He's trying to make you feel guilty about doing something he didn't have the balls to do," I said.

I was right and my brother knew it. He had no other reason to keep that whore around. She should have been dealt with from the very beginning. She wasn't leading us to Leo as my brother had hoped, no, in fact, she was making us spin around in circles. Leo had used his daughter and now he had tossed her away, left her to fend for herself, and look where that got her.

"Right, you're right brother," he said. "However, I am not trying to guilt her into anything. No, what I should have done was let that boy call the police like he had planned. What do you think would have happened to you then, Isabella?" he asked.

"I don't know, you tell me," Isabella said. The way she spoke to my brother, it was as if she were a different person.

"I should have let him do it," my brother said, as he came towards us.

"Yes, you should have," she said.

"Maybe a night locked up would have done you some good."

"And they would have taken my prints and my DNA and then what would you have done, Edward?" She asked.

She had grown-up so much it was almost scary. Who would have thought three years with our aunt would have done her some good.

We could hear the sound of my brother grinding his teeth together. He snapped his neck from left to right. His eyes narrowed as he stared a hole through her.

"Dolcezza, don't jump into a game where you don't know the rules," he said.

"Fuck. You!" she spoke the words slowly. "Game over. I'm done."

My brother snapped, he had lost all sense and let the monster in him come out to play, only this time the monster's victim was his own wife.

He grabbed a fistful of her shirt and pulled her to him, wrapping his other hand in her hair tilting her head back.

"Hey, now, no need for that," I said, trying to pull my brother off of her, even though it was a useless task. He shoved me away, making me stumble into Garrett and Vito who had walked in.

"You fucking come after us Anthony, and you'll be in the headlines again tomorrow," he said.

We watched as my brother dragged Isabella out of the room and up the stairs. They disappeared out of our sight. The sound of a door slamming echoed down the stairs.

"Fuck!" Garrett said.

 _ **~MINY~**_

I had sent Garrett and Vito to check on the clean up downstairs and make sure all the security footage had been disposed of.

Edward and Isabella had been up there for hours now, I couldn't hear a sound. I didn't know whether to be relieved or scared.

I sat at the end of the hallway waiting for one of them to emerge. By midnight I was prepared to declare them both dead, that was until my brother emerged from the room, walking a few short steps across the hall into the adjacent room and shutting the door behind himself. He hadn't noticed me.

I waited for a few minutes to see if he would come back out. Finally satisfied that he wouldn't, I went into Isabella's room.

She was standing on the balcony. Her hair was wet and she was dressed only in a pair of pajama bottoms and t-shirt. Outside, the air had a bite to it. There was a possibility it would snow tonight and here she was standing in the freezing night with wet hair.

"Are you trying to catch pneumonia?" I asked, leaning against the frame.

She paid me no attention, in fact, I don't think she had heard me approach at all. I hadn't been quiet about it either.

I walked out onto the balcony beside her, wanting to see what held her attention. I followed her gaze to the building across the street. Was that it, the building?

Her eyes squinted together as if trying to get a better look as she leaned over the balustrade more.

"Which one are you?" She mumbled to herself.

"How about we get you inside before you freeze," I said, putting my arm around her shoulder. My action made her jump up in surprise. Her eyes wide as she looked upon me, realizing that I was here with her.

"Anthony, what are you doing in here?" She asked looking over my shoulder.

"I came to check that you were still alive," I said.

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"What did he do to you?" I asked, looking her up and down for a sign of anything, a mark, a bruise. There was nothing on her.

"He didn't do anything to me," she said.

"Are you sure?"

"Why are you so concerned?" She asked, turning once more to the building across the road. "Would it bother you if your brother were to have hit me? Or would it bother you more that it was him abusing me and not you?"

"You really have grown an attitude, haven't you?"

"You never knew the real me."

"I liked you better when you were obedient," I said.

"Is that why you've come in here now, to teach me obedience?" She scolded.

"I came to make sure that you were okay."

"I don't need you checking up on me," she said. Little did she know that I had been checking up on her over the years. I knew everything she had done. I knew of the studio she had made back in Ragusa. I knew how those assholes looked at her. I knew every time my father and mother would leave to check in on her. I was also aware of the friend she had made, the same friend who was now coincidentally in New York.

"Get inside before you freeze to death."

"I'm not...It's really cold out here," she said.

We went back inside, I closed the balcony doors behind us. She had climbed into bed, concealing herself completely under the covers. I sat down next to her head, pulling the bedspread off enough to see her face.

"Why are you still here?" she mumbled.

"What are doing in bed?" I asked.

"What do people usually do when they get in bed?"

"Fuck."

She looked at me unimpressed. "Get out," she said, pulling the covers back over her head.

"No, seriously, what are you doing in bed?"

"Going to sleep, Anthony, it's late."

"Have you had anything to eat?"

"No!"

"Go dry your hair and change your clothes," I said.

"Anthony, no, I'm not going anywhere," she protested.

"There is nothing cooked in this place and I don't feel like making anything. You're hungry, I'm hungry. I know a great little diner that's open all night, they have the best burgers."

"No, I can't Anthony, I can't do that to Garrett, Edward will kill him for sure this time," she said, as she sat up.

"My brother won't do anything, in fact, I bet money he's taken a pill and he's snoring right now. And if Garrett wants, if it makes you feel better, he can come along," I said. One way or another I was going to gain her trust. "Edward won't even know we're gone. I bet you he'll still be asleep by the time we get back."

"I don't know…"

"Please," I said, lifting her chin up to look at me. "I promise I'll bring you back."

"Garrett can come?" She asked.

"Garrett can come."

She was debating with herself, it was written all over face. She was going to refuse me, it was clear, I couldn't have that, I couldn't lose.

"Trust me," I said.

"That's not an easy thing for me to do."

"Give me a chance, just one chance, Isabella."

"Why are you being nice to me, it's weird, it doesn't suit you," she said.

"That's something we can discuss over food."

 _ **~MINY~**_

The all night diner on Lexington Ave. had the best food in town. It had always been my go-to.

I watched Isabella stuff her face, literally stuff her face, with the burger. I have to admit it was refreshing to see a woman eat properly, none of that salad crap.

"What?" She asked. She had caught me staring.

"Hungry?"

"Yep. This is really good," she said, tucking into her food. "Stop staring at me while I eat, it's uncomfortable."

"Do you have any idea how refreshing it is to watch you eat. You're not worried about impressing anyone. You don't care if you get sauce everywhere. Who would have thought you'd be this fun, little lamb?"

"That's because I'm not trying to impress you, Anthony. I could care less what you think about me," she said, as she glanced back over her shoulder at Garrett and Vito a few booths away.

"What if I think you're beautiful?" I asked, guarding her reaction.

She was beautiful, she had always been. However, she had changed a lot these past few years and that only accentuated what natural beauty she had.

She turned her attention back to me, placing what was left of her food back on the plate, she pushed it away. Resting her elbows on the table.

"Why are you doing this, Anthony?" She asked.

"Doing what?"

"This, being nice, everything, even teaching me how to shoot. Why would you do that?" She rambled on.

"I'm a nice person," I defended.

"No, you're not, not to me at least."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

I'll admit, this had started out as a game. Three years ago, she was a pawn in a game that I had played well. However, I didn't win the game. I didn't get the girl.

"You abused me, Anthony," she said, my heart sinking at the memory of my hands on her. Her blood staining my fingers, every cry, every plea. I had turned soft. If there was ever something that I regretted about her, it wasn't that I involved her in any of this, it was that she had suffered at my hands and not my brothers.

"I don't know what to say, little lamb," I said.

"You had me locked me in a brothel. You were going to rape me, Anthony, and not just you, you were going to let those other men do it as well."

She closed her eyes. Letting out a deep sigh, she opened them again, staring right at me, looking straight through me.

"Even if you apologized…" she trailed off. "Nothing will ever make up for it."

"I'm not going to apologize because you and I both know I would be lying," I said. I have never had to apologize for anything and I was not going to make an exception for her. Regret and sympathy were different from feeling sorry, and I wasn't sorry, not one bit.

"This may sound stupid," she said, letting out a nervous chuckle. "I preferred you better back then."

"You're right, that does sound stupid." I laughed.

"I didn't have to guess with you. Even though your mood was always jumping around, you were caring one minute and violent the next. However, it was never a surprise because I knew you were only leading me into a false sense of security, I knew what to expect, but now, this. I can't take anymore games, Anthony, whatever game you're playing at with your brother, please leave me out of it because I can't, I can't play anymore, please."

"Hey," I said, reaching over for her hand. "I'm not playing games. I know you may never trust me, but I hope you'll give me a chance to prove you wrong."

Even I couldn't understand myself right now, where was this sensitive side coming from? The plan that I had made was slowly backfiring on me.

She stared past me with her head cocked to one side, her eyes squinting as if trying to get a better look. I turned around to see what she was looking at, but all I saw was a group of people cross the road. None of them looked familiar, none of them suspicious.

"What do you keep on staring at?" I asked, waving my hand in front of her face.

"Nothing," she said, shaking herself off.

"Really?"

"I thought I saw someone I know, but I was wrong," she said.

Garrett, who had been facing us, jumped out of his seat and ran outside. He stood on the sidewalk looking in both directions for something, no, someone, possibly the same someone that Isabella had seen. Moments later, my watch vibrated against my wrist.

 _Michael was here._

I looked up at Isabella as she watched Garrett walk back into the diner. She chewed on her bottom lip, looking like a nervous mess.

I had tried to dig up information on Michael O'Laughlin, however, there was not a single thing to his name, no family I could trace, not even the supposed job he claimed to have. I could not even trace him to where he was staying in New York. The man was a ghost.

"Isabella," I said, gaining her attention.

"Yeah, I know, we have to go," she sighed.

"We need to talk about your little friend."

"I don't have any friends."

"I'm not going to play games with you, but you're not going to play them with me."

"I'm not playing anything, Anthony. I don't know what you're talking about," she said, getting out of the booth. She made it outside before I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back against my chest.

"I know everything, little lamb," I whispered in her ear. "We can do this the easy way, or I can make it very hard for you, baby."


	26. Chapter 26

_**Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69**_

 _ **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

 _ **Edward Cullen.**_

What had she been thinking? How could she have been so stupid as to do something as reckless as that?

She hadn't been thinking that had been the problem. My brother had taken too much joy in it all. He had been standing right next to her, how stupid could he have been to let her do that, to let her take his gun and take someone's life with it? It was of no importance if that person deserved to live or die. It wasn't her, she wasn't the type to do something like this. She wouldn't be prepared for the consequences.

I didn't know what to do with her. Once I had her alone in her room, my mind went blank.

There was a part of me, a very strong part of me that wanted to hurt her. It would be easy, it would be so easy to give into that part of myself, to put my hands on her. However, there was a stronger part of me that wanted to take her into my arms, hold her and comfort her. That part of me won, that part of me will always win where she's concerned. Always.

I took her into the bathroom. I filled the tub with water while she silently stared at me as I moved about.

I removed my own clothes first, standing before her naked. I began to remove her clothes. I undid her shirt slowly, one painful button at a time. I unzipped her pants and pulled them down her legs as she stepped out of them and I kicked them off to one side. The entire time she made no sound, no effort to stop me, not even as I removed her bra and panties.

My eyes roamed over her, every inch of her body as I helped her into the tub. I climbed in after her settling her down in-between my legs as she rested her head against my shoulder.

Her action, although welcoming, was surprising. Then again, I don't really know what I had been expecting from her either. Had she gone into shock yet? Was this her seeking comfort for that?

I hadn't done what I had expected myself to do either. What I wanted was to yell at her, to scream until my voice hurt and my lungs gave out. To tell her how stupid her actions had been, to do it until she finally realized it herself. However, I think both of us needed this more. We needed the comfort, the closeness that we brought to each other at this moment.

I knew Garrett would oversee the cleanup. I knew my brother would be on it as well, he'd have called for a cleanup crew. I would cover for her because she was mine, just as I was her's. I only needed to make her understand that.

We sat in the tub together, with my arms around her until the water became cold. I wasn't ready for this to end, not just yet.

"What you did was stupid," I said, breaking the silence.

"I don't care," she said.

"I'm not mad at you, in fact, I'm proud of you. Considering how bad your aim is, you were right on target," I chuckled.

"You're proud of me?" She turned her head to the side trying to look up at me, frowning. "You're proud I shot your mistress?"

"She was never my mistress," I defended.

"No? She was just someone you fucked."

I don't know where this side of her was coming from. Jealousy? It didn't suit her. I didn't want her to ever feel jealous, but I'll be damned if I didn't enjoy it. It was arousing.

She turned her head away from me, looking straight ahead, so I couldn't see the expression on her face. I had no clue what she was thinking.

"At the time, I thought you were gone for good. I didn't know if you were alive or if I would ever have the chance to see you again. It's not an excuse, it's...she was very persistent, very annoying and I was angry and alone," I said, guarding her reactions, but as usual she gave nothing away. "She always had it stuck in her head that she and I were going to be together, that's what her father had promised her. He always thought that my wife was a made-up tale by my father and myself."

"What about that day in the office back in Sicily? I saw her on top of you, naked," she said, as her fingernails dug into my wrists.

"If you would have stayed a second longer, you would have seen me push her away. We could have avoided all of...that," I said.

"Why didn't you get rid of her then? Why parade her around in my face? Were you trying to make me jealous?"

"No, although I do like this feisty side of you." I smirked, placing a kiss on her wet shoulder. "I never want you to feel jealous, especially because of another woman. I kept her around because I believed she had some information that I had wanted, but as it turned out, her father had let her fend for herself."

"That's horrible," she said.

"That's just how life is."

"I'm cold."

I climbed out of the tub, wrapping a towel around my waist before helping her out of the tub and draping a towel over her shoulders.

There was a silent moment we shared, staring at each other. Neither one of us was willing to break the moment, neither one wanting to look away. I wanted to lean in and kiss her, no, I wanted to do more to her, so much more. However, a part of me knew she would refuse me and that part of me could not handle her rejection. Instead, I let her walk off and dress herself as I did the same.

I waited in bed for her to come out of the closet. When she finally emerged, she stood at the foot of the bed, staring at me once more.

"What are you doing in here?" She asked.

"Do you not want me here?" I asked, feeling the rejection, but not letting it known it affected me.

I didn't want to leave, I wanted to stay with her, hold her, comfort her. I knew all too well what the first kill felt like. I knew the nightmares it brought, no one was immune. I was fourteen when I took my first life. However, I was trained for it, I knew what to do, what to expect. My kill, unlike hers, hadn't been spontaneous, it was planned. Isabella wasn't prepared for any of this, she was not bred into this life.

I was expecting her to lose it. I was expecting her to have been rocking herself in the corner in shock or to have another panic attack. She did none of those. She seemed very collected, very put together, as if nothing happened at all.

"I want to be by myself," she said.

And there it was, rejection in its finest, most sweetest form.

"Alright," I said, getting off of the bed. "I'm only across the hall if you need me, dolcezza, no matter what," I told her as I leaned in a put a kiss to her forehead.

With that, I left her. I went into my own room and pulled out the bottle of sleeping pills from my nightstand, popping one into my mouth.

I was tired, but with everything that's been going on, sleep was the last thing I wanted, but it was one thing I needed. One pill wouldn't do much for me, maybe I would get four hours of sleep from it at best.

 _ **~MINY~**_

"Get him away from me!" I heard Isabella shout out.

My eyes snapped open as my head shot up from my pillow. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sprinted across the hall from my room into my wife's room where all the commotion was coming from, stumbling as I did in my half sleep state.

"Look what you've done, you've awoken the beast," my brother said.

It took me a moment to adjust to the light in the room. The first thing that got my attention, they were all dressed as if they had all been out somewhere, Isabella included. The second, was my wife hiding behind Garrett's back, trying to shield herself from my brother.

"What the fuck did you do?" I asked, charging at him.

"Easy there," he said, holding out his hands. "I didn't do anything."

I grabbed him by the base of his throat, squeezing just enough to cut off his air.

"What. Did. You. Do?" I demanded.

"Edward," Isabella said, running up to us, trying to separate me from my brother.

"Tell me what he did to you. Did he hurt you!?" I yelled out.

"No, he didn't hurt me, Edward I swear. I was hungry, he took me to get something," she said, pleading with me with her eyes. I never thought I would see the day that she defended Anthony.

I let go of my brother, giving him a shove and watching him as he fell flat on his back.

"Why were you shouting, then?"

"Because he's an ass," she said. "Make him leave."

"I'm hurt, little lamb, and here I thought you loved me," my brother said, feigning hurt.

"Enough, get out," I said.

"Before you get your panties all bunched up," my brother said, "ask her why she wants me to leave. Ask your wife what happened, what she's keeping from you."

"I am not keeping anything from anyone," Isabella said, grinding her teeth together.

It was clear that whatever had happened between my brother and my wife, I wasn't going to get it out of them. Anthony enjoyed speaking in riddles and Isabella was too stubborn to say it.

"Garrett."

"Michael," Garrett said.

At the mention of that name, my blood boiled. I was over this, over this...this man that had come out of nowhere and was now everywhere my wife was.

Could she not see it? Did she not find it odd? Or did she think it all one big coincidence? Even she could not be that stupid.

We didn't know who he really was, or what it was that he wanted. The man was literally reborn, any trace of a previous life nonexistent. We could not even identify where he was staying in the city.

However, she knew, I was certain of that because she was never a convincing enough of a liar. There was only so much longer I could play this patient husband card with her. She needed to tell me what she knew, because as much as it would pain me, I would take her down to the basements to scare some sense into her.

"I got this," I said. "Both of you, get out of here."

"Remember what I said," my brother says to Isabella.

Anthony and Garrett left us alone. I watched as my wife slipped off her shoes and climbed into bed.

"Don't even think about it," I said. She couldn't hide from this. "I want answers."

"I'm tired," she mumbled into her pillow.

"So am I. I'm tired of all of this. Why are you protecting him?"

"I am not protecting anyone," she defended, now sitting up. I had her full attention.

"No? Then tell me where Michael is," I demanded.

"I...I don't...know."

"Tell me the truth!" I yelled.

"I don't know where he is, Edward, I don't know a damn thing," she said.

I tried but failed to understand her. What motive, what reason could she have to protect this stranger? My mind was running away with me. All sorts of scenarios played in my head, none of which I favored. For all I knew, Michael could be undercover. If that was the case, what the fuck had she told him?

Patient wasn't a good approach with her. Caring wasn't a good approach. I was running out of options. Did she only respond to violence? Was that the only way I could get her to cooperate?

"Fine," I said. "What does he want?"

"Nothing. He doesn't want anything," she said.

"Then what was he doing with you? What did he tell you? What did he want?"

One more try, I could give her one more try before I let what little control I had left, slip.

"Did it ever occur to you that he just wanted to be my friend?"

"No, because I don't believe for one second he wants to be just your friend," I said.

She looked down at her fingers as she started to fiddle with them. Her chest heaved up and down. She was crying, I'd made her cry. I watched as tears streamed down her face and onto the comforter.

I didn't like that. I didn't like it when she cried. I didn't like that I'd been the one to make her cry, even though I needed answers, even though I hated what she was doing, I'd been the one to hurt her now.

I crawled into bed beside her, pulling her down beside me, I maneuvered our bodies so that we were facing each other. I wiped some of her tears away, as she did as well.

"Do you want to truth?" she asked.

I nodded.

"I like Michael," she admitted and that stabbed at my heart. "I like him because he looked at me as if I was just another person. He didn't treat me different like everyone else did. Your dad said I could start over in Ragusa, but everyone knew who I was."

"You are a normal person, dolcezza," I said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"No, Edward, I'm not. I was, but I'll never be normal again. I'll never have a normal life. All those people there, they didn't even know how to act around me. They were so afraid to approach me, as if I'd give them some sort of disease if I breathed in their direction. Then, I bumped into Michael, who knew nothing about me, nothing. He doesn't know Isabella, he doesn't know who you are, nothing, Edward, nothing. You have no idea what a breath of fresh air it was to have someone look at me the way he looked at me."

I swallowed the lump in my throat at her words. "How did he look at you?" I asked.

"Like I belonged. He treated me nicely, I didn't have to guess his mood. He looked at me as if I mattered," she cried.

"Why didn't you ever tell me how you felt?" I asked.

"Would you have cared?"

"I've always cared, dolcezza, always, you just never saw it. I do love you and I hope that one day you'll believe me," I said.

There was something in her, a change. I could see it in her eyes and on her face as she searched mine. What she was looking for, I don't know, but I hoped she found it. I'd always been sincere about my feelings. I do love her, in my own way.

"It's hard for me to trust you," she admitted. "But I want to. There are times where I feel like I can, but others, not so much. You confuse me, Edward. I want to hate you and I do, but at the same time I don't."

"That's…" I chuckled. "That's exactly how I feel."

I offered her a soft smile. I had an urge to kiss her to draw her close to me. I took the chance and hoped she wouldn't reject me.

I slowly brought my mouth to hers, placing a small, soft kiss on her lips. She put her hand on the back of my head and pulled herself closer to me, deepening our kiss, her tongue licking along my bottom lip.

I flipped us over, she was on the bed under me. Her hands went to my shirt, ready to pull it off, but I put my hands over hers, stopping her.

"What are you doing?" I asked. I wanted this, don't get me wrong, but I didn't want her to do something she was not prepared to do because she was caught in the heat of the moment. I wanted her trust.

"Isn't that how it works," she lightly joked. "Aren't we supposed to take our clothes off?"

"Are you sure?"

"Why are you asking so many questions?" She tried to tug at my shirt again.

"Because I don't want you to regret this."

"I won't, I promise...if you don't want me in that way…"

I didn't give her a chance to finish her words. I pulled my shirt off and captured her mouth once more. I didn't know what the day would bring, but this was a good way to start it. For now, questions and answers could wait. For now she had my undivided attention. She was my sole focus, my purpose, my love.


	27. Chapter 27

_**Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69**_

 _ **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

 _ **Isabella Cullen.**_

Life was complicated.

Life was dangerous.

Life was confusing.

Oh boy, didn't I know that. Things went from one messed up situation to another. What happened the morning before...I won't say I regret it, however, it should not have...I should have said no, I should have been stronger and pushed him away, and yet I wasn't.

In that one moment I had single-handedly screwed everything up, because I knew that moment meant something more to him than it had for me.

For me it had been a physical urge, a need for release and he provided that. In a way, one could say I had used him. However, I believe he held emotions, feelings, although, I could never be too sure with him.

I did like it though, this gentler side of him. I liked the way he touched me, with care, with need. I liked the way he looked at me as if he didn't believe it was real, as if he would blink and it would have all been over.

"Hello," Garrett said, waving his hand in front of my face. "You keep spacing out on me. What has you so deep in thought?"

"Nothing," I mumbled. We were in the backseat of the car, Vito was in front. Garrett was dropping me off to yet another family dinner. Edward had promised to meet me there, he'd been busy all day.

"Then answer the question."

Question? I had been so deep in my own thoughts, so caught-up in my own bubble, that I hadn't heard him utter a single word.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you. What did you ask?"

"Why are you protecting him?"

 _And here we go again,_ I thought.

"Is he enlisting your help on this or are you a willing volunteer?" I asked.

I knew by now how this worked. Edward's approach at drilling me for information from me hadn't worked, so he went and enlisted the help of the one person he knew I spoke openly with, Garrett. I suppose I should be thankful that it wasn't Anthony he'd asked.

I shuddered at the thought of Anthony. How was it possible for one person to be so confusing? The times I'd spent with Anthony always left me wondering if he was in fact bipolar. It wasn't normal for a person to have mood swings as fast as he did. Although, at times Edward was not far off from his brother.

"Don't be like that, Isabella," Garrett said. "He wants to keep you safe, and this guy, Michael, there's something not right with him. How do you not see it? "

That may have been so, but it was them who were reading too much into it all. The more I thought about, it the more I could see why they were bothered by Michael, but he was harmless, to me at least. Maybe there was some sort of infatuation he harbored for me, as it was I seemed to attract only crazy men. Nevertheless, this wasn't a cause for a death warrant, and that's exactly what would happen to Michael if I were to tell Edward anything about him.

Michael was here for work. People travel all the time, they change jobs all the time. I didn't see Michael's presence in New York as anything other than coincidental. I only hoped Edward would drop this soon.

"There isn't anything to keep me safe from, Garrett. Michael never did anything to me, he never harmed me in any way. He was my friend who had always been sincere to me which is a lot more than I can say for Edward and his family."

"I beg to differ," he said.

"Of course, you would," I mumbled, looking out the window.

"I heard that."

"Good for you," I said. "Can you tell grumpy in front to take a detour and pretend we got lost. I'm sure Edward would understand."

"Why?" he chuckled at my request.

"The last thing I want is to have dinner with the in-laws."

"It can't be that bad." He stated.

"Do you want to know the topic of conversation my father-in-law found so fascinating the last time?"

"Shock me," he said.

"Mine and Edward's inability to reproduce."

"I'm sorry," he said, putting his arm around my shoulder. "That is pretty low of him."

"So, detour?" I pushed my luck, it wouldn't hurt, right?

"No luck, we're here."

"You're a poor sport." I muttered as he helped me out of the car.

"You're wearing your watch. So, If Edward doesn't arrive soon and you want some help, push that red button up top and I'll think of some excuse to get you out of there."

"Would it work if I pushed it now?"

"Go," he said, shooing me away.

Garrett waiting, standing at the bottom of Esme and Carlisle's stoop for someone to answer the door and let me in.

Their housekeeper, Renta, was quick to let me in and lock the door behind me.

"Zia Marie," Sofia called out, running towards me from the other end of the hall. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," I said, catching her in my arms. I kissed one of her soft little cheeks. She was absolutely beautiful, she was the spitting image of her mother and grandmother, but Sofia's personality, I quickly found out matched her uncles, but not my husband's.

"Hey now, I'm jealous. How come she get's a kiss?"

"Uncle Anthony," Sofia said, standing in front of her uncle with her hands on her hips. "You don't deserve a kiss. Zia Marie, isn't stupid to kiss you."

"Is that so?" Anthony challenged. "How about it Zia Marie, where's Zio Anthony's kiss?"

"Nope," I said, taking Sofia's hand, letting her lead me into the dining room with Anthony following behind us.

"You're here, finally," Esme said. She was her usual cheery self. The one thing I noticed, the only other person at the table, was Carlisle.

"I heard about what happened. The first time is always hard, but you'll get over it," she said. I knew very well what she was referring to. To be honest, I hadn't given it too much thought, as horrible as that may sound. I had tucked the memory somewhere far in my mind, that was something I was good at doing. "Trust me, I don't bat a lash any more."

"Right." This was the last conversation I wanted to have with her, with any of them in fact. "Where is everyone?" I asked, hoping for a change of subject.

"Oh, Rosalie and Emmett are with Edward. I just got off the phone with Rosalie, it looks like they won't make it," she said.

Great, that was just great. I wondered if Edward had thought to call and let me know this. I sat down at the table, the furthest end from Carlisle, Sofia sat herself beside me before her uncle could take her seat.

Carlisle, who had said nothing since I'd walked into the room did his best to stare a hole right through me. I wasn't going to let myself be intimidated by him. I had my emergency watch and Garrett was only a push of a button away if I needed him.

I chanced a glance down at my wrist with Carlisle's eyes still very much on me. There was a small flashing green light notifying me of a message. It was from Edward.

 _Dolcezza, I am sorry, but I won't be able to make it to dinner. There is an urgent matter that has come up that I need to fix tonight. I'll make it up to you. I love you. E._

Look at that, he'd messaged me after all. The thought alone brought a smile to my face, he'd thought enough of me to let me know.

"What has you so happy this evening?" Carlisle asked me.

"Nothing in particular," I said, refusing to make any eye contact with him. I didn't like the way he was looking at me, almost as if he were about to shoot me at any second. Maybe that's what he was waiting for, an opportunity?

"Let's eat," Anthony said. "I'm starving."

 _ **~MINY~**_

Dinner had been uneventful, that is once Carlisle focused his attention on his food. None of us spoke a word to one another. It was, for lack of better words, uncomfortable.

Once dessert had been served and everyone had moved on, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what I was expected to do. Do I stay or do I go? With Sofia taken away from me for her bath, I felt odd just standing here. Even Anthony had vanished off somewhere.

I was going to find Esme and say goodbye at least, it would be rude not to. I walked out of the dining room to the main entrance towards the stairs. No sooner had my feet touched the first step, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"You wouldn't mind if you and I had a talk?" Carlisle asked.

I turned on my heel to face him, hoping I could somehow decipher what was going on in his head. What could he possibly want to talk to me about? Well, that was a stupid question, I think I already knew the answer.

"Of course," I said.

He put his hand on the small of my back and guided me alongside him until we reached his office. Once we entered, he removed his hand from my back and turned to lock the door. The loud click making my pulse accelerate. Why did he lock the door?

"You can relax, you know. I didn't bring you in here to kill you," he said.

How did he know what I'd been thinking?

"Your body is very tense and your pupils have dilated. Your fingers are also twitching," he said.

"And all of that means I thought you were going to kill me?"

"No, not necessarily. However, you are nervous to be in here with me. Your body language gives you away."

 _Of course I'm nervous, I'm locked in here with you_ , I thought.

"Why did you lock the door?" I asked.

"I do not like to be interrupted and my son has a tendency of doing just that. His timing can be a little annoying."

I would have never thought I would want Anthony to open a door so badly then I do right now.

"Sit down. Would you like something to drink?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"Sit down, Isabella," he said again, only this time, it was a demand.

Hesitantly and without a choice, I sat on the couch he had directed me to. My finger played over the red button on my watch. Should I alert Garrett? What good would it do if I was locked in here with Carlisle? It wasn't as if Garrett could simply walk in.

"Why am I in here, Mr. Cullen?" I asked, wanting him to get this over with already.

"Mr. Cullen? Are we back to formalities, Isabella. I thought we were past that?" He asked.

"I'm sorry, Mr...Carlisle. What is it that you want to speak to me about?"

"You and my son have been getting closer and closer it would seem," he said.

Did Edward speak to his father about us? He wouldn't do that, would he?

"I guess," I said.

"Are you aware of how a family's bloodline works one generation to another?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then, you won't mind me expecting that you and my son reproduce an heir, and soon."

"Excuse me?"

"You see, this thing of ours, it's been passed down from generation to generation. My father to me, his father to him, you get the gist. The thing about our family, unlike most others, we've had the same direct bloodline of power all along, no uncles or nephews or even godsons have interfered with that, they tried," he chuckled, "but failed miserably."

"What does any of this have to do with me?"

"Edward is the head of the family now, he has been for the last four years and our family has yet to see an heir, it does not look good."

"So you want Edward and me to have a child for the sake of appearances?" I asked, but not believing what I was hearing.

"If that is the way you want to look at it." He shrugged.

"Are you out of your mind?" I asked.

"I would watch the way you speak to me," he warned, as he sat on the coffee table in front of me.

"Carlisle, that's insane. I can't do that. I'm sorry, I can't," I said.

"No is not the correct answer."

"It's my body. I'm not going to have a baby if I don't want to," I said, standing up, he stood up with me.

"And it's my family," he said, grabbing onto my chin roughly.

They were insane, all of them, they had to be. Was Esme in on this as well? Did Edward know of his father's request? Is that why he wasn't here tonight, he didn't want to face him so he let me do it on my own?

"I tell you what," he smiled, however, there was nothing friendly about it. "I wouldn't even be offended if you called your firstborn Charles."

I felt physically sick at the mention of my father's name. I hadn't thought of my parents for so long, it was better that way. Why would he do this to me? Why would he bring my father up.

"How can you say that?"

"I thought it would be a beautiful tribute, considering."

"Considering what?" I demanded.

"You don't know do you. My son really kept it from you all these years," he laughed.

"Kept what from me?"

"Your father is dead, Isabella. He killed himself after your funeral," he said. "I cannot believe Edward kept this from you."


	28. Chapter 28

_**Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69**_

 _ **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

 _ **Edward Cullen.**_

My brother-in-law.

Emmett was the sort of man that was quiet and kept mostly to himself. He was not someone anyone would ever give a second thought to. However, Emmett worked better when left to his own devices. He had found a weak link when someone accidentally turned their device location on. Emmett was able to track the location and the person who had been transferring our money.

Laurent did not appear as someone you would give any credit to. He was born and raised in the Bronx, he grew up on the wrong side and still lived there. Laurent also had a rap sheet to match, armed robbery, assault, grand theft auto, you name it and he was more than likely guilty of it. He was in no way a hacker though, there was no way he was that smart.

Laurent was not the one stealing the money, I was certain of that and so was Emmett. Laurent was nothing more than a pawn. He'd been set up by someone else with the ability to transfer the money.

"Who's paying you to transfer the money?" I asked.

"Man, I don't know nothing, alright," he said. For a man who was locked inside a room in a warehouse with Emmett and I, and no means of escape, Laurent sure felt brave, or he was even stupider than he looked.

"No, no, it's not alright. You stole from me. You stole from my family and that's something I don't tolerate. I want the money back."

"Look, if he doesn't want to talk," Emmett said, as he stood behind Laurent, pushing down on his shoulders until he was sitting in the cold metal chair. "There is always a market for these homos. His ass could make the money back another way."

"Fuck you!" Laurent yelled. "I ain't no fag."

"It is of no importance to me whether you are or are not. I want my money, and if your ass hole is going to make it back for me, then so be it," I said.

"Alright, man," he said. "What do you wanna know?"

"Who set you up to steal my money? Where did that laptop come from?" I asked.

"I don't know." He shrugged.

I rolled my tongue around the inside of my mouth. Who would have thought this piece of insignificant shit would be this difficult.

I chuckled as I took my hands out of my pockets, grabbing ahold of the bandana tied around his head, I pulled it off and wrapped it around my fingers. I went to stand behind him, wrapping the bandana around his neck and squeezing it tightly.

"I don't know how you little boys play in the hood," I mocked, "but us men don't play games. When I ask a question you fucking answer it or I'm not just going to kill you. I'm going to take that little girl of yours as well. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

He nodded furiously as he tried to grasp for air. I let the bandana around his neck go, dropping it on the floor by his feet.

"Good," I said. "Now, where's the money?"

"I don't know," he whined.

"Emmett." I nodded. My brother-in-law stepped around. He pulled a hunting knife and a Zippo out of his pocket. He flicked the knife open in front of Laurent's eyes.

"Come on now, man," he begged. "Listen, I don't know where the money went to. The guy comes by every time with a new account. There's no name on them. Man, I don't even know why he wanted me to do this shit for him. He could have done it himself."

Because Laurent was a pawn. Because whoever this was knew that if we figured it out, no, they knew or were planning for us to figure it out. They knew we would go after Laurent, they would know and they would have time to run. Fuck!

"What's his name?" Emmett asked.

"The guy never said. He only introduced himself as M."

M?

"What does he look like? Old, young, fat, bold? You have to give us something here, Laurent," my brother-in-law said.

"Blonde guy, weird ass accent, dressed like you in a fucking suit," he said, puffing out his cheeks.

"Irish?" I asked.

"Maybe, I don't know the difference in accents, he could be from fucking Mexico for all I know."

"You think it's Michael?" Emmett asked.

"M with an accent, could be."

All fingers pointed in Michael's direction. A man named M with an accent. My brother had only managed to dig up his travel records, he'd been back and forth from New York to Italy a few times in the past year, with an occasional different location thrown in. He was in Ragusa at the same time both my father and I were. He befriended Isabella and then out of the blue appears everywhere my wife is. The question was, why was he taking our money? However, I do not believe he is the one taking it, no, I think someone else is calling the shots. Michael is just another pawn, a distraction.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, but I ignored it. I needed to get more out of Laurent.

"Can I go now?" He asked.

"Excuse me?"

"You got what you wanted. I told you all that I know, so can I go now?"

"Where do you meet with this M when he gives you the accounts?" I asked.

"He calls me when he wants a transaction. Look man, I only did this shit cause he was pushing fifty grand my way every time."

"He calls on your phone?" I asked, holding my hand out for his device. I hoped he would cooperate, I didn't want to reach into his pockets for it.

"Nah, I get one delivered the day before he calls."

"When was the last time you had one delivered?" Emmett asked.

"This morning, before your fu...people showed up."

The phone in my pocket went off again. I dug it out to see it was my brother. I had given him one job to do, one simple job, keep our father distracted today while Emmett and I dealt with Laurent. There is no doubt if my father knew about this, Laurent would not be sitting in that chair in one piece right now.

"What?" I answered, impatiently.

"There's...there's a problem," my brother said. He sounded nervous, and nervous was not a trait my brother possessed.

"What problem?"

"I don't know, but dad, he did something to Isabella."

"What the fuck did he do to her!?" I yelled into the phone.

"I don't know, she won't say, but she's a mess. Garrett wants to take her back to your place."

No. Don't let them leave, I'm on my way. Don't you dare let that motherfucker leave either," I said, before hanging up.

"What's wrong?" Emmett asked.

"I have to go and take care of something. See what else you can get out of this asshole."

I pulled my jacket on and ran out of the warehouse. I don't know what my father had done to Isabella, quite frankly it didn't matter. He was told, I had warned him. Carlisle Cullen had single-handedly signed his own death warrant.

 _ **~MINY~**_

From the warehouse across the bridge, it took me over an hour to reach my parent's place, even driving the way that I had. I stopped the car in the middle of the road alongside the SUV I'd given Garrett.

"Are they all in there?" I asked as I passed Vito, who was leaning up against the hood of the SUV.

"Yes, boss."

I climbed the stairs of the stoop two at a time. I tried the front door, finding it unlocked.

Inside, my wife sat on the bottom step with my brother sitting by her side. Garrett, my mother and aunt stood on watching them.

Isabella looked pale, dead almost. Her eyes focused ahead of her, staring at nothing in particular. I knew that look, and there was no chance in hell I was going to let her sink into that hole again.

"What the hell happened?" I asked. "Where is he? What did he do to her?"

"Mr. Cullen is in his office, and Isabella won't speak with us," Garrett said.

"Edward, I am begging you, don't do anything rash," my mother said.

However, it was too late for her to ask me for anything because my decision had already been made.

"Do not ask me for any sympathy, mother, because I have none."

I went to Isabella, crouching down in front of her. I brushed the back of my fingers against her cheek, it was a small movement, but I didn't want to make any sudden movements and startle her.

"Dolcezza, baby," I said softly.

She shook her head, she blinked once and the tears fell. I cupped her face in between my hands, making her look right at me.

"What happened?"

"You knew," she whispered, looking me right in the eyes.

"What did I know?"

"You knew all this time. You all knew and kept it from me, why?" she cried.

"Dolcezza, I don't know what you're talking about."

She scoffed, pushing my hands away, pushing me away. She stood up in a rush and headed towards the front door.

"My father has been dead all these years!" she yelled. "And you kept it from me. All this time, you never told me, why? Why would you do that to me?"

He did it, he went ahead and did it, he told her the one thing I was hoping her to never find out about. It's cruel, yes, but she was happy knowing that her father is alive and that her family is well. Why would I ruin that illusion for her?

"Hey," I said, trying to grab a hold of her, but she was not making it easy. She didn't want anything to do with me and I couldn't blame her for that.

"No," she said, jumping back. "Don't touch me. Just tell me?"

"Dolcezza…" I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what to do that would make this situation better.

"I get that he was nothing more than a traitor to you all, but he was my father. He was the man that raised me and the only man that I have ever loved," she cried.

"Oh, amore," my aunt said, trying to reach out for her, however, even she failed.

"You have all put me through so much, but this...this is low, even for all of you."

"Dolcezza, please listen to me, it's not true," I said, without giving it another thought.

"Brother, don't," Anthony said.

I walked towards her with my palms up, showing her I was not going to touch her unless she wanted me to.

"Stop lying to me. For once, just tell me the truth, please Edward, I can't take it anymore," she said.

"I'm not, okay, look at me...I'm not," I said.

"Edward, please," she begged.

I took the final small step to her. Reaching out I pulled her into my arms, holding her head against my chest. If I could take away all of her pain, I would, I would absorb it and bare it all for her.

"My father, he shouldn't have told you what he did, and I'm so sorry for that. Remember what I told you about him?"

She nodded her head in my chest and I held her a little bit tighter.

"Things haven't worked out the way he wanted them to. Remember I was never meant to find you. He's punishing me by punishing you."

"Why would he say something like that to me?" She asked.

"Don't worry about him, dolcezza, I'll deal with him."

"Where's my father?"

"I promise you, dolcezza, he's alive and well," I said, because some thing were better kept hidden. Sometimes the truth wasn't what was best for us. Maybe, one day she may learn the truth, I would tell her. Today was not that day.

"Come on," I said, walking with her towards the front door and down the stoop. Garrett ran ahead of us, opening the car door. Vito put out his cigarette and hopping into the driver's seat starting the engine.

I turned back to see my father leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest and a sick smirk on his face as if he'd won some sort of major prize.

"Wait in the car for me, I'll be back in a few minutes," I said kissing the top of her head.

"Get down!" Garrett yelled out.

I couldn't see the car, but I could hear it. I could hear the gunshots that rang out on the quiet street, I could hear screams, the screams of my mother. I pulled Isabella's head down roughly holding it down on her knees. We were somewhat protected from the gunfire in our position, but that didn't mean the car wasn't hit.

It was over before it began, a few seconds at best, but that had been enough, that had been all it took.

I forcefully shoved Isabella the rest of the way into the backseat of the car slamming the door after.

"Get her the hell out of here, get her underground," I said to Garrett.

I turned to face the carnage, if I could even call it that. People from neighboring homes came out and stood and watched as if this were a goddamn theater. Looking around, surveying the damage, I saw my father lying in the doorway lifeless with my mother crying over him.


	29. Chapter 29

Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 _ **Anthony Cullen.**_

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

Was the only sound coming from my father. He wasn't dead no, Carlisle Cullen was a hard man to kill. However, the doctors were not very optimistic about his recovery. They'd told my mother to prepare for the worst.

I didn't believe them at first; I mean what the hell did they know, right? This was my father we were talking about. Don Cullen was indestructible.

I let out a heavy sigh. Who was I trying to kid, no one was really indestructible. No one lived forever.

I won't say my father didn't deserve to die, lord knows he did... Lord. God himself would personally throw my father straight down to hell the moment if he ever tried to step foot through those pearly gates. That thought alone made me chuckle, causing my mother to glare at me from her husband's bedside.

"You need to go home," I said.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You've been sitting here for a week, nothing is going to change if you leave for a few hours."

"NO!" she snapped.

"I'm not taking no for an answer. You need a change of clothes and a decent shower, not that little box they've got in here. You also need to get some fresh air."

"I am fine where I am, Anthony," she said.

"Don't be stubborn about this. What do you think he would say?"

"Anthony." She sighed, clearly frustrated and irritated. "Stop wasting your breath. I'm not going anywhere."

I hoped with everything in me that my father - by some miraculous force - would pull through, for no other reason than the sake of my mother. Although, after one week... he hadn't even twitched a finger.

My brother, he isn't as sympathetic about all of this as the rest of us. If the truth be told, I think he's more pissed-off because someone put a bullet in our father before he had the chance. I can't blame him for wanting that either. If the roles were reversed, I would want his blood on my hands as well.

There was a light knock at the door. One of our guards outside carefully poked his head in.

"The two detectives are here again, sir," he said.

"Let them in." I sighed.

"No," my mother said.

"We have to play nice," I reminded her.

Since my father's admission, they had been here everyday. A few times they've even camped-out outside his room.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Cullen," one of them said.

"Whatever it is you have to say, make it quick and get out," my mother said.

"Anthony Cullen," the other one said. This one was new, I'd never seen him before. "Alive after all. You even had us fooled."

"What can I say?" I shrugged. "The devil sent me back."

"Any progress on Mr. Cullen we should know about?"

"Do you people have no respect at all?" My mother said, standing up from her seat, getting right in the detective's face. It was a sight to behold.

"I apologize for any inconvenience we may be causing you, Mrs. Cullen, but we have a job to do. And for us to do our job we will need to question your husband as soon as he wakes up."

"As my son advised another one of your people the other day, we will contact you when my husband wakes up. Your presence is not needed here until then."

"I'm sorry ma'am, but that is not how we do things," the detective said.

"That is how we do things," my mother said. "If it is not up to your standards, then so be it. Now leave."

"Do you people not want to find out who did this to your husband, to your father?" The other one asked.

I ran my fingers through my hair. I was somewhat frustrated with them myself, but I knew I had to keep my calm and play nice. The detective on the left wanted to question not only my father, but my sister-in-law as well. No matter how much my brother tried to negotiate his way out of it, they had her on CCTV. They knew she'd been there and was a witness. My brother had been a little too late to cover that piece of evidence up.

Isabella had played her role well though. Marie was from Italy - who had attended an international school in Rome - thus explaining her perfect accent. They bought that part until one of the detectives claimed she looked very familiar, like he'd seen her before, but couldn't place her. Of course, he had to know of Isabella Swan; half of, if not all of the NYPD had been assigned to her case. Although, when this one made that statement my brother froze, and so had I. Isabella had also became visibly nervous; that only aroused their suspicion more. It had been my sister that saved all our asses, concluding the interview right then and there.

"Thank you for dropping by detectives," I said. "I am sure you can understand that - right now - mine and my family's priorities lie solely with my father's recovery."

"We absolutely understand that Mr. Cullen."

"Good. Now get the fuck out."

They didn't have any other choice and they knew it, much to their frustration. They were just barely out the door when one of them stopped and turned back around.

"Oh, Mr. Cullen, how is your sister-in-law by the way?" he asked. "I hope she is doing well."

"Now that really is none of your fucking concern," I said.

"Hmm, do tell your brother that we will be in touch. I will be needing to speak with her again."

 _ **~MINY~**_

"He knows," my brother said, taking another swig of his drink. "He knows she's _the_ Isabella Swan."

"I have someone pulling up the names of everyone that was on her case," I said.

"And?"

"I'm waiting for him to get back to me."

"He knows, I'm telling you, he fucking knows something about her," my brother said. I was surprised he was still able to speak so clearly considering he'd finished a bottle of scotch by himself. He had been drowning his problems all night in that bottle. It's fair to say this past week has made him a little paranoid. Everyone and everything was suspicious to him.

"Don't worry, brother, I got this," I said. The truth was I just wanted to get my hands dirty again. It had been a long time since I had been included in any of the fun.

"How about we get you to bed and let that hot, little wife of yours deal with your drunken ass."

I put one of his arms over my shoulders and helped him to his feet. I stumbled with him along the hallway. I tell you what, my brother was heavier than he looked. He leaned all of his weight onto me.

I was thankful when we had finally reached his door. I punched his code into the keypad, waiting for the green light. I knew I should've knocked before I opened the door. I knew Isabella was in there; however, there was a wicked part of me that was hoping to catch her in a compromising position.

"What did you do to him?" She asked, jumping up to her feet.

I stumbled inside with my brother and let him fall down onto the bed.

"I didn't make him drink as much as he did," I said.

"Did you think of stopping him before he got in this state?"

"Do I look like his mother, or his wife?"

"Get out, Anthony," she said, pointing towards the open door.

I put my hands over my heart and pouted, pretending to be hurt. "You're hurting my feelings here little lamb. I thought you would want me to stay."

"Anthony, please leave," she said again, trying to sound firm. However, she and I both knew that that would not work on me.

On the bed, my brother, let out an unusual groan and rolled onto his back.

"Should he be on his back? What if he throws up?"

"He's your train wreck to deal with. I don't do vomit."

"Anthony, please. Can you at least help me roll him onto his side?" she asked.

"Oh, now you need my help? I thought you wanted me to leave?"

"Seriously, he's heavy," she moaned.

"Tell me about it," I mumbled, rubbing my shoulder. "How about me and you get out of here for a little while?" I asked as I helped her roll Edward onto his side.

"Good night, Anthony."

"I'm serious. Aren't you tired of being cooped up in here, breathing in this shitty conditioned air?"

"Your brother is in an alcoholic coma, and you want me to leave him like this to go out with you?" she asked, glaring at me.

"Why not, he did it to himself after all. Neither of us got him drunk."

"You are the worst kind of person, Anthony."

"The best of the worst." I winked. "Come on, let's get you out of here for the night."

"Out in the city? We're supposed to be on lockdown and you want to go out?"

"You'll be with me, Isabella. Do you think I would let anything happen to you?"

"No!"

"Good, go grab some shoes and coat."

"No, I meant no, I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Would you rather stay here and clean-up his vomit?" I asked, pointing to my brother.

"Get out," she said, not giving in.

I ignored her and walked across the room and into the walk-in closet.

"What are you doing?" she asked, hot on my trail.

I grabbed a pair of shoes and coat for her and tucked them under one arm. With my free hand, I grabbed one of hers and pulled her along beside me.

"What the hell are you doing? Let go of me!" she yelled.

"Come on now, princess, I'm springing you from this joint."

"Anthony, stop, please," she pled with me as she attempted to free herself.

I pushed her out of the room, and pulled the door closed behind us.

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" she continued to yell. "Garrett!"

I turned my head enough to see Garrett jogging towards her with his hand in his pocket and a panicked look on his face.

"Don't even think about it, Garrett," I said over my shoulder.

Isabella looked at Garrett and back at me before letting out a long sigh. She had lost the battle and she knew it. Garrett was powerless to help her while I had her.

"Ok, fine, I'll go with you, but he's coming with us," she said, taking her shoes and coat from me.

"Fine," I finally said. She was afraid to be alone with me and well, I couldn't blame her for that. But haven't I done enough to prove I was not going to hurt her again?

I snapped my fingers at Garrett, telling him to move it. I didn't understand her attachment to him. He was more of a friend to her than a guard. Maybe she felt something for him, something more than she knew better than to feel, and maybe he did her as well. He looked at her differently. I could not put my finger on it, but there was something there. I couldn't be the only one to notice this? Had my brother not picked up on it, at all?

"Stop staring at him like that," Isabella said, drawing my attention back to the present.

"Like what?"

"Like you're about to kill him."

"And what if I am?" I asked, amused as her anger grew.

"Are we going to stand here all night, or are we actually going somewhere?"

"Not so concerned about your husband's well-being now? So eager to escape? I might not bring you back, you know?" I joked, although she had found no humor in my words.

"Fuck you," she said.

"You only have to ask me once," I said.

"You're disgusting."

"The worst, I know."

She scoffed as she pushed past me and began walking alongside Garrett.

The air outside was ice-cold and it assaulted me immediately. I had made sure Isabella was dressed warmly, but I'd forgotten my own coat.

I let Garrett drive us, as it would give me the perfect opportunity to sit next to my sister-in-law in the back and make her uncomfortable. I knew being this close to me in a closed and dark space made her squeamish, and that was too good of an opportunity to pass up.


	30. Chapter 30

Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Isabella Cullen.**

Why did I agree to go anywhere with Anthony? I should've known better by now; he was and always would be up to no good.

He took us to some club, God knows where. I didn't see much as Garrett drove us around to the back entrance.

Speaking of Garrett, I had no idea where he was, or better yet, where Anthony had sent him off to.

Anthony had me cornered in a booth at the very back of this club. The music did not seem so loud back here, allowing us to be able to hear each other speak.

Anthony had always made me uncomfortable, but more so now because he was sitting flush against my side with one arm draped around my shoulders. He slid another drink in front of me. I downed it gladly. I needed all the help I could get to deal with him.

"Admit it, you like me touching you," he said.

"I would rather be bitten by a poisonous snake," I said, the brave side of me coming out, although I believe the alcohol's liquid courage played a part in that. "Although, you could very easily pass for one."

He chuckled, not fazed at all by my insult. He only poured me another drink.

"Where's Garrett? Where did you send him?" I asked.

"He's around."

"Where did you send him, Anthony?" I asked again. Garrett made me feel safe, which is a lot more than I can say for this snake.

"Why are you so concerned about him?" He asked with a raised brow.

"Edward made everyone go into hiding and yet the three of us are sitting here - out in the open. So yes, Anthony, I'm concerned."

"Edward is prone to overreacting, that's why he's hiding you all away," he said.

"And you aren't as worried as he is because...?"

He shrugged, taking another sip from his glass.

"Someone shot your father, Anthony. Someone tried to kill your family and you're sitting here talking about it as if it's not big deal."

"What happened to my father, was... unfortunate for him."

"He may die," I said, staring at him in disbelief. Carlisle, no matter my feelings towards him, was still his father. If I didn't know better, I would think from Anthony's insouciant tone he sounded as if he wanted his father to die.

"And that would bother you?" He asked with a smirk. I opened and closed my mouth a few times, trying to come up with something but it was pointless. I had nothing to say, he had me there.

"Here," he said, filling my glass again. "How about we just layoff the family business and heavy stuff, and enjoy the few hours of freedom we have."

He could not be serious.

"So what's going to happen now?" I asked.

"Now, we are going to get wasted and party."

"I'm serious Anthony. Edward won't say anything to me, especially after what happened down at the precinct. He just threw me down there as if somehow it might make everything all go away," I said.

I wasn't stupid. I knew no matter how much Edward and Anthony, or even Rosalie tried to downplay it, the detective knew something about me. He knew something he shouldn't. He'd recognized me, I was certain of it. He tried so hard to find a reason to not let me walk out of there.

It would have been so easy to throw in the towel, admitting he was right. That I wasn't - in fact - who they claimed I was. There wouldn't have been a damn thing Edward, nor Anthony, could have done about it. I don't know why I didn't do it though. My mind went blank.

"Now we find the son of a bitch who tried to kill my father," Anthony said, downing another shot.

"Do you know who it is?"

He shook his head and took a swig straight from the bottle this time.

"I'll take that as no," I mumbled.

"Didn't I say to lay off the heavy?"

"This isn't heavy, Anthony. This is just my curiosity in how this is all going to play out."

"You know," he slurred his words slightly. The amount of alcohol he had consumed was slowly catching up with him. "I think I liked you better when you didn't ask so many questions and listened to what you were told."

I narrowed my eyes at him, resisting the urge to pick the glass bottle off the table up and hit him with it.

"You mean you liked me better when I was locked up in your basement, frightened and abused by you," I said.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to say it out loud. You were thinking it."

He scoffed, removing his arm from around my shoulders. "You don't know anything. You don't know what I'm thinking. We aren't supposed to talk about this shit. We are supposed to sit here and drink and get drunk like friends."

"Don't delude yourself, Anthony. We aren't friends," I said.

"Why won't you give me a chance?" He asked as he brought the bottle to his lips again, only to find it empty. He whistled at a waitress and held the bottle out to her as he waited for her to return with another.

I opened my mouth to answer him, but he cut me off.

"And don't give me that same bullshit of, 'oh, you kidnapped me', Anthony." He mimicked me perfectly, as the waitress returned with another bottle for him.

"Isn't that enough?" I asked. What more reason did I need to have? "You hurt me, Anthony, both physically and emotionally. How can you honestly expect me to move on from that? Pretend like it never happened?"

He sighed deeply. For the first time since I have known Anthony, he looked lost. Dare I say sorry, even.

"I am only going to say this once," he slurred as he finally managed to open his new bottle, "so you better be listening really good, little lamb."

I stared at him waiting for him to continue, not knowing if what was about to come out of his mouth would be him or the effects of the alcohol he had consumed.

"I'm sorry," he started, taking a swig. "I'm sorry for every time I put my hands on you. I'm sorry for being the cause of your pain... But, I'm not sorry I took you," he said.

I was taken aback. I don't really know what I had expected him to say, certainly not that though. He couldn't be serious. No, he wasn't. He couldn't honestly consider that an apology and expect me to buy it. Surely, he didn't expect us to move on and be a loving family like the past four years had never happened.

Before I could control myself, I started laughing. Although, Anthony, even in his drunken state didn't appreciate my laughter.

"Why are you laughing at me?"

"You're serious aren't you?" I asked as my laughter died down. He looked hurt, almost lost.

"Of course I'm serious," he slurred out. For someone as intoxicated as he was, I was surprised he was able to hold his words so well. "Do you know how many people I've apologized to in my life?"

"Surprise me."

"One," he said, holding up one finger. "You."

"Was that the reason you took me out tonight? To ask for my forgiveness?"

"Not really," he said, scratching the back of his head. "But forgiveness is the aim of an apology, right?"

"They're only words, Anthony. 'Sorry' is just a word, it doesn't mean anything."

"It means something to me," he said.

I took the bottle out of his fingers and took a long gulp myself, welcoming the strong burn down my throat. I hate him for this, for saying that to me because deep down, we both know he didn't mean a single word. Anthony Cullen was 'too good' for apologies. Anthony Cullen never did anything without having an ulterior motive. Drunk or not, he had a reason for this, but it wasn't to gain my forgiveness.

"I said sorry. You have to forgive me," he said.

"They're only empty words. If I take this bottle and shatter it over your head and then apologize, will it take your pain away?"

"I…"

"No, it won't, you would still be in pain."

"Look... Isabella." He sighed, shifting around in his seat to face me. His heavy alcoholic breath washing over me.

"I can't forgive you, Anthony," I said. "I can't forgive you because I can't forget. I still have nights where I can't sleep because every time I close my eyes I can see it all, hear it all. I'll jump out of bed and search myself for blood, for bruises. Saying you're sorry isn't going to make any of it better." I said, hoping that maybe - even in his drunken haze - he would be able to understand that.

"One day, you will forgive me. One day you'll realize I'm better than my brother," he said as he leaned in towards me.

"How about we take your advice and lay off the heavy stuff?"

"That... is a fucking great idea," he said, snatching the bottle out of my hand. "Let's dance."

"Are you sure you can hold your balance?" I asked.

"I'm not as drunk as you think I am," he said.

He stood up and held his hand out toward me. He was serious after all; he wanted me to dance with me.

"We're on borrowed time now, little lamb. I've got to get you back before the big bad brother sobers up and realizes I've stolen his wife."

I bit my lip, thinking about my options. Dancing with Anthony, I didn't even know he could dance.

I took his hand and let him lead me down to the dance floor. It was then and only then that I realized, the entire place was empty.

"Why is there no one here?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I told you, we're on borrowed time. It's late or rather early in the morning," he said.

He turned me around and my body collided into his as he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me securely to him. The rapid beating music slowed into a ballad as Anthony and I stood in the middle of the dance floor. From the corner of my eye I caught Garrett staring at us from the bar. I waved to him behind Anthony's back, but got no response. I knew he could see me. He looked angry, pissed the fuck off actually. I guess this was the last place he wanted to be. He was probably thinking about what Edward was going to do once he found us all missing. I wouldn't let Garrett be on the receiving end of Edward's wrath. This was all on Anthony, he could deal with his brother.

"Are you sober enough now to tell me why you brought me out here?"

He smirked. His eyes darkened as he leaned down and whispered in my ear very softly.

"You've been a very, very naughty girl, little lamb."

"What the hell are you talking about, Anthony?" I said, pushing away from him, but he was stronger and held me firmly in his grasp.

"Let's just say, I know all about your little friend," he said, as he looked up at Garrett.

"Garrett? Yes, he's my friend. Just because Edward has him following me doesn't mean he can't also be my friend."

"His job isn't to be your friend. His job is to protect you."

"Why are you doing this?"

"He's not the friend I'm talking about Isabella," he said.

"I don't have any friends, Anthony," I said, trying to push him away again.

"Your Irish friend, Michael, Isabella," he said, causing all the color to drain from my face. "You are going to tell me everything about him, or I will tell your husband about the events at a certain Tuscan lake."

If I wasn't pale before, I sure as hell was now. How could he know about something like that? There had been no one there. At that time, everyone still believed Anthony was dead. He wasn't in Ragusa.

"Believe me, little lamb, I will take great joy in breaking that little piece of information to my brother."

And here it was, Anthony's ulterior motive.


	31. Chapter 31

Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Edward Cullen.**

There are moments in life that have you stopping in your tracks and question every decision you've ever made. Moments that make you realize, you are a good person or the worst kind of all.

Hurting my own flesh and blood wasn't something I necessarily wanted to do. Hurting Anthony felt as if I was hurting myself; maybe it was because he's my mirror image, yet his pain, the pain I had inflicted on him had brought me great joy.

"Are you planning on keeping me locked up in here forever?" My brother asked from the bed he had made on the dirty blanket in the corner.

"Tempting," I said.

"Kill me, don't kill me. Make up your mind brother, I'm getting bored down here."

"Having you beat half to death is boring to you? I can always liven things up more for you," I said.

My brother struggled to stand to his feet from his corner, but nevertheless he was determined to do so.

He's a fucking mess, bruised, dried old blood combined with fresh drops. His left arm is broken, of that I am certain. He has to be in a world of pain, although he would never show it, not to me at least.

He stood in front of me with his arms opened wide, staring me dead in the eyes.

"Go ahead and do your worst. Play with me, brother," he taunted.

I felt pity for him. He's a mess and in a lot of pain; he needs a doctor for that arm, yet his ego won't let him admit it.

He's on the verge of passing out. He's barely holding himself up. It's been forty-eight hours since I brought him down here. I may have neglected to have him fed.

I pushed him back down onto the floor of his corner and placed the brown paper bag I brought with me on his lap.

"So, this is how you're going to end your own twin, poison him?"

"Shut up and eat, Anthony," I said, reaching into my packet to take out a bottle of painkillers and tossing it at him. He looked at me with a raised bloodied brow.

"Take them, don't take them. I really don't care." I shrugged.

I sat down on the edge of a step as I watched him open the bottle of pills and swallow a few. I watched as he ate the food I bought him, finishing it all in a few short minutes.

"I don't suppose you brought your poor brother something stronger than water to drink?" He asked.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" I asked the question I had wanted answered for past two days.

"You still mad about that?" He smirked. "I got a question for you."

"You're in no position to ask me anything."

"What pissed you off the most? The fact I took your wife out from under your nose? Or was it the fact that she enjoyed herself with me?"

I wasn't about to fall for my brother's game. I knew what he was trying to do, and I knew Isabella did not enjoy any of the time she spent with him. The look of relief on her face when they returned home said it all; not even Anthony could deny that.

If he had done anything to her during their brief escape she didn't say a word about it, nor did she appear to be physically harmed in anyway. However, that didn't mean nothing had happened.

"Lighten up, brother," Anthony said. "I brought her back didn't I? I didn't hurt her did I?"

"You put her in danger. You put yourself in danger. Hell, you put Garrett in danger," I said, as I stood up. "My wife, Anthony, _my_ wife. You put her life in danger. You took her out there, knowing there's a target on our fucking backs, and for what? To play a fucking game."

"She was never in any danger. I'm not stupid," he said.

"Laurent is dead!" I yelled.

My brother's head snapped up. "Fuck! How?"

"One to the back of the head. Whoever it was, cut his tongue out and sent it to my door. So, you can understand why I am so fucking mad. When I needed you, you were nowhere to be found."

My brother said nothing. He stared blankly back at me. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to realize that this threat was bigger than he thought. No one knew my brother and I had paid Laurant a visit. We weren't followed and there had been no one watching his place, it hadn't been bugged, which leaves me scratching my head. Whoever this person was sent Laurant's tongue to me because they knew he had spoken with me.

Anthony chuckled, although it held no humor. "That stupid bitch," he mumbled to himself. He was silent for a moment. The wheels were turning in his head, I could see that, as if he was trying to work something out.

"Where's your wife, brother?" He asked with a sick smile on his face.

"I swear to God, Anthony."

"Do you know she has Michael's number?" He asked.

"Bullshit," I said. I would have known if Isabella would have had any contact with Michael. She hadn't, not since there run-in and that was well over a month ago.

"Is it?" My brother asked. "You've given her free regin around here. You even gave her the code to your office door. Exactly how many untraceable cells are in there? Have you counted them all? Are you missing anything? You sure she doesn't have one hidden away with her in her underwear?"

I swallowed a lump I hadn't realized had formed in my throat. Anthony was right, I had given Isabella free reign down here, but that was because she was not my prisoner and I didn't want her to feel as such. I was working so hard on gaining her trust again that it never crossed my mind that she might be the one to betray mine.

"Can you even check, brother? Is she even letting you in-between her legs?" He smirked. "She let Michael."

I crouched down in front of him, grabbing him by the collar of his filthy shirt. I could tell, I could always tell when my brother was lying.

"My my, brother. I never thought I'd see the day when a woman would have you this wound up. It's just a shame she prefers the Irish," he said.

I lost it; my fist became acquainted with Anthony's jaw, causing one of his wounds to reopen and start bleeding again.

"What the fuck do you know that I don't?"

He chuckled lightly, spitting out blood across my face as he did.

"Your 'dolcezza' and our very secretive Irish national, shared a rather... sweet moment back in Ragusa before you were all shot at at the ball."

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"The perks of being a ghost for so long brother."

"That's... impossible," I said.

Maybe I was just being stupid and refused to believe it. Maybe deep down I thought Isabella - in her own way - did in fact, feel something for me. However, if what Anthony was saying happened to be the honest truth then... I didn't want to think of what I would be capable of doing to her.

"You don't believe me," he said. "Go ahead and ask her. Ask her about the lake. Ask her about how she swam with him in nothing but her underwear. Ask her how he kissed her, _your_ wife, and how much she'd enjoyed it. Better yet, ask her how his hand ventured down below the water. You're a smart man brother, I'm sure you can figure out what they were doing."

In that moment my vision changed. I saw black. Anger, pure raw, unadulterated anger engulfed me. It pulled me under and drowned me in it. There was no sense, no rational judgment left in me. Before I had any control, the back of Anthony's head collided with the brick wall. He slumped in a heap, covered in blood. There was every possibility that I had caused some irreversible damage, quiet possibly his death. I did not care. I turned on my heel and left him in that cold, dark room.

 **~MINY~**

I imagined what I would do when I saw her. I thought what it would feel like to put my hands on her with the intent to hurt her. I wondered if I would be capable of causing her physical pain. I thought about it as I made my way to our room.

I believed my brother, as much as I didn't want to, I knew he was speaking the truth. Something had happened between Isabella and Michael. Maybe Anthony exaggerated what he saw or maybe he didn't. Maybe he downplayed what it was he had actually witnessed, but that's not my brother's style.

I stood outside our door with my fingers hovering over the keypad. I was stalling and I knew it. Even in my anger, I knew that if I went in there and attacked her there would be no coming back from that. But my anger, that raging beast inside of me screamed out, 'she betrayed you.'

I pushed the door open ready to do, I don't know what to her. I stopped in my tracks when I found her curled up on the bed fast asleep.

I stood next to her, brushing a strand of hair off of her face. She appeared so pure, so innocent, yet the only vision in my mind was of her with Michael, His hands on her skin, on her body. She had let him touch her, yet she'd recoil from me.

She must have felt my presence. She stirred under my touch and her eyes slowly fluttered open. Her soft dark eyes stared up at my cold ones. I can't imagine what my face must have looked like to her in this moment, but it had her frightened enough to move out of my reach.

"Are... are you okay?" She asked, her voice soft, just above a whisper.

I didn't trust my voice so I didn't answer her. I saw her swallow the lump in her throat as her body began to physically shake. She was afraid. _Good_ , I thought she should fear me right now because I feared myself.

"Edward…" she whispered.

For a brief moment I closed my eyes and saw it all. I saw me hurting her. I saw her blood on my hands, her eyes lifeless and it scared me. It scared me because I knew that I was capable of doing far worse. It scared me because I was out of control, and it scared me there was no one here to help her, to save her from me.

"We need to talk," I finally said.

I wanted to move towards her. I wanted to grab her, put my hands on her, yet my feet refused to move from there spot.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"That is a good question, dolcezza. What is going on?"

"I don't know what…" she trailed off as my hands balled up into fists and I cracked my neck.

"I am trying very hard to hold it together right now, Isabella. If I were, I wouldn't test my limits," I said. I prayed that my own darkness wouldn't overtake me. Not now, not with her.

"Edwar-"

"Here's how this is going to work, I ask the questions and you answer them. Don't fucking lie to me, dolcezza, don't. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head slowly, never taking her eyes off of me. She watched - with cautious and alert eyes - every move I made.

"In Sicilia, did you…" I trailed off finding it almost impossible to say the words. I stared back at her, observing how helpless she looked. Scared, like a lamb knowing it was about to be slaughtered.

"You betrayed me," I finally managed to get out.

"What are you talking about?" She asked, her face scrunched up in confusion.

"Don't play dumb with me, dolcezza!" I yelled. "Michael. You remember your friend Michael, don't you?"

My feet finally became unglued from their spot. The beast, the monster in me, finally took complete control. He circled her, enjoying her fear and feeding off of it. I had her trapped now; there was no escape. She was out of the bed trying to make her way around me and towards the door, but I couldn't have that. With her back pinned against the wall, I trapped her there.

"Did you only fuck him in Italy, or was it here as well? Is that why you've tried so hard to outsmart Garrett, so you can run off and spread your legs like a whore?" I said, bringing our foreheads together.

She kept shaking her head. She opened and closed her mouth a few times like a gasping fish out of water, whatever she wanted to say got caught in her throat.

"I never thought you had it in you," I said, as I skimmed my nose across her cheek. "So innocent, yet you aren't."

"Please," she begged.

"Are you begging me?" I chuckled darkly. "Did you beg him too?"

"I didn't do anything, Edward," she cried.

"Don't fucking lie to me!" I yelled, slamming my hand on the wall beside her face.

She jumped at the loud bang beside her head. She covered her face with her hands and slid down the wall onto the floor, curling up like an injured puppy. I should have felt something now but there was too much emotion and too much anger to stop me.

"Tell me the truth," I said, crouching next to her. "Just tell me the fucking truth."

She wasn't giving me anything. She stayed there with her hands covering her face, a sobbing mess. I pried her hands off of her face and forced her to look at me.

"I didn't do anything," she cried. "Please, believe me."

"What does he want with you then?"

"I don't know."

"You do know, Isabella. Tell me."

But she stayed quiet.

"Fucking tell me!" I yelled.

We stayed like this for a long time, her staring at me, me staring at her. Neither one of us saying a word. Then reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I was no better than Anthony right now, in fact, I was worse. I let go of her and stood up. I moved to the other side of the room putting as much distance between us as I possibly could. I never took my eyes off of her, nor did she take hers off of me.

"Michael was only a friend," she said softly. "If I can even call him that."

I closed my eyes. Rubbing my forehead, I let out a frustrated sigh.

"I... What…" I couldn't think of what I wanted to say.

"I never slept with him, Edward, or fucked, as you put it. I'm not a whore."

"I'm sorry," I said. She only nodded.

"No, you're not," she said, standing up with caution; she made a move for the door.

I watched her walk out and close the door behind her. I should be going after her. I should be demanding my answers, but all I could do was watch her leave.


	32. Chapter 32

Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Isabella.**

I felt cold, not because I was sitting outside - somewhere in the undergrounds back alley - in nothing but my pj's and socks, but because of him. The cold concrete and the falling snow had no effect on my current state. I was cold and numb all because of him.

His actions only further proved he had no notion of what love actually was. How can someone claim to love you and accuse you of being unfaithful with no proof other than 'he said she said'? How can someone who claims to love you, want to physically hurt you?

None of it should have come as a shock to me, not after everything, yet it did. It hurt he thought so little of me. It hurt because I was beginning to feel something for him.

I will admit that yes, Michael had kissed me, and a part of me enjoyed it. However, I didn't enjoy it because of any physical attraction but because of what Michael would have represented for me. Freedom, a fresh start, an escape. They were all the things Edward, no matter what he claimed, could never give me.

"Are we going to sit out here all night? I'm cold and you're going to catch pneumonia dressed like that out here," Garrett said.

It hadn't taken much convincing on my part to get him to take me outside somewhere for fresh air. Although, a dingy back alley was not what I had in mind, but it was better than nothing.

"I doubt anyone would miss me if I died," I said into my palms.

"That's not true. I would miss you."

Garrett, he could be sweet at times, almost like the big brother I never had.

"And regardless of what you may think right now, he would miss you also."

His words had me laughing out loud, so much so the echo it created bouncing off the buildings in the alley hurt my ears.

"I believe I'd be doing him a favor. For whatever reason he can't bring himself to kill me, so maybe I'll just do the job for him."

"Stop talking like that," Garrett said, as he cleared some snow off the step and sat down beside me.

"He's angry. He said some things in the heat of the moment. That doesn't mean he means it." He tried to justify. "We've all said shit we didn't mean in the heat of the moment."

"Please don't defend him in front of me. He's your boss, I get it, but he's also…"

"An asshole," Garrett said, taking the words right out of my mouth.

I chuckled softly. It wasn't like him to say anything bad about Edward.

"Remember I told you you can always talk to me. Rather than you sitting here contemplating your death, how about you tell me what really happened?"

I trusted Garrett. He had never told Edward anything that I had shared with him in confidence. Sure, I could keep my mouth shut now. I could keep it all bottled up inside and let it eat away at me like I'd done so many other times. But a part of me wanted to let it all out because I wanted someone to take my side. I wanted someone to tell me, 'yes, Isabella, you're right.'

"Anthony told him about something that happened between Michael and I back in Ragusa." I sighed. "Lord only knows how Anthony found out about it."

"One of the advantages of being dead." Garrett shrugged. "He could be anyone, anywhere, and at anytime."

"Did you know he was alive?" I asked.

"I did."

"Oh."

"I also knew he flew to Europe after Edward had left to come get you."

"Why did Anthony come to Italy if his family thought he was dead at the time?" I asked.

"Beats me. But if I had to guess, things were going on and Edward was only telling him the bare minimum. I assume he didn't like being kept out of the loop... You know even though they're twins they are nothing alike."

I scoffed at that. "You sure about that, Garrett? Because the Edward I saw tonight was a mirror image of Anthony."

Edward did have a dark side. Anthony always said his brother had a raging monster inside of him, one that could make his look like child's play. I believe it now. I saw that monster that hid inside Edward with my own eyes, felt its rage, back in Italy and again tonight.

The only difference between Edward and Anthony, Edward could control his demons better than his brother, or so I thought.

I hated the element of surprise and ever since Edward has came back into my life, surprising me has been all he has done.

"You know, I never liked surprises, not even as a child," I said. I closed my eyes for a brief second and it all flashed before my eyes. The memory of that moment, my first surprise hit me so hard, it was almost hard to breath.

"When I was thirteen, my parents threw me a surprise birthday. They asked me for weeks what type of party did I want? What did I want? And I always told them, 'nothing, not this year'," I said as I let my mind wonder and stay there, in that dangerous place where all the memories of my parents were. The parents who thought I was dead. The parents I would never see again.

"They threw me a damn party anyway. I had been at a dance class. My teacher kept me a little late, she said I needed more work on my piruet, which was complete bullshit because I had perfected that years before.

When my mom came to pick me up, I noticed that she was dressed nicely. She even had her hair done. She was so beautiful," I said, willing myself not to cry at the memory. It was losing battle, though. Garrett rubbed my back in support.

"What happened after?" he asked, encouraging me to go on.

"When we got home, everyone was there and I mean everyone. They had invited my whole class, even the kids I barely spoke with. I was so mad. I said some awful things to them. I told them they ruined my life with their stupid party, they knew I hated surprises, and they did it anyway. I told them I hated it... Everyone still stayed and enjoyed the party, despite my tantrum. I think I even enjoyed it; although I never let them know that." I smiled, seeing in my mind my mom and dad's faces. "All I wanted for my birthday was some headphones and to watch reruns of Full House."

The tears rolled down my cheeks. I tried to wipe them but there was nothing left of them but a frozen trail.

"After that day, they never surprised me again, not even with just a dinner."

"You must have been a stubborn child." Garrett laughed.

"I guess in a way. I don't like not knowing. I didn't like guessing what was going to happen or what was to come. I had everything planned right down to the last detail. College, my ballet, my life. There were no surprises. I knew what I was going to do and what I needed to do. I loved it like that; I loved having control of my own life. And then…" I trailed off.

"My mother was the spiritual type. She believed everything had a purpose, a reason. No one meets by chance, it's all been planned by a higher power. I believe that," Garrett said.

"I'm only here because of a choice someone else made. My father danced with the devil and pissed him off. I'm not here because of some higher power, purpose bullshit. Fate or destiny didn't bring me here, bad choices did," I said as he watched me with a sad expression.

"Then all you can do is make the best of what has been thrown at you," he said.

"My point in all of this; I thought all elements of surprise were gone with Edward. With Anthony, Carlisle, even Carmen and Eleazar, I never knew what was going to happen, or what they would do next. I never knew what I was going to get with them and I hated that. However, with Edward, it was simple; he'd always been consistent. He was either angry or he wasn't. He didn't flip his switch like Anthony, and it was comforting not having to worry, not having to guess, or tread on eggshells around him. But now, I don't know what changed in him."

"He changed a lot after you left," Garrett said. "He became someone else cold, heartless, if you want to put it that way."

"He was always heartless. He was just nicer about it," I said.

"I'm going to say something you aren't going to like, but I have to get it through your head somehow... You're the reason for the change in him. You're the reason for his anger."

"What the hell have I ever done to him!?" I yelled, pushing Garrett's arm off of me. I scooted further away from him.

"Hear me out," he said, holding his hand up in defense. "After you got married, he tried everything, everything he could to get you to trust him, to make you comfortable. Do you know he even asked me for advice?"

"And?" I said, folding my arms. Was any of this suppose to mean something to me?

"Whether you want to admit it or not, he does love you. It may be fucked-up but he does, and I know a part of you believes that."

"You can't possibly know that," I said. Edward doesn't love, he doesn't know how. I don't think any of them know the meaning of the word.

"Look Isabella, you don't have to believe him but believe me. I know because I paid the price for it. I heard every word that came out of his mouth."

I closed my eyes and let out a deep and frustrated sigh, thinking about what Garrett must have gone through at the hands of Edward because of me.

"I'm sorry. I don't think I could ever apologize to you enough, but anyone else in my position would have done the same thing I had."

"Maybe, or maybe someone else would have opened their eyes and realized what was right in front of them."

"Don't turn this around on me," I said, jumping to my feet, letting them bury in the snow. "I didn't make him become a monster. I didn't make him kill someone in front of me. I didn't make him hurt you, or me, or anyone else for that matter. He did that all on his own because he is fucked in the head."

"Jesus Christ, Isabella. You really are fucking stubborn. No... no, you're just plain stupid," he said.

"I am not stupid," I said with narrowed eyes. "But I am beginning to believe that you are."

"Edward is a man who trusts very few. Hell, he doesn't even trust his own father half of the time, but he trusted you. He tried to make things better for you, but you were so stubborn that you wouldn't allow him to. Then you went and trusted his father and then this Michael guy. Can you see what that did to him?"

"I never trusted Carlisle," I said.

"You trusted him enough to leave with him that day. Do you understand now?" Garrett asked.

I stayed quiet because I had nothing to say. In a way I knew Garrett was right; I had trusted Carlisle that day. Although Carlisle had been true to his word, trusting him had been my first mistake and I know Michael was my second.

"You betrayed his trust, and so did I."

"You didn't do anything, it was all on me," I said.

"No, that's where you're wrong. My job was to keep you safe and to bring you back home, and I failed."

"You were outnumbered, Garrett. Even if I had said no to Carlisle, there were five of his men and only one of you."

The more I think about it now, it was blatantly clear that even if I had refused Carlisle's offer, he would've taken me away - only with a different outcome. He came prepared that day. He was prepared for a fight and, I dare say, he was disappointed when he received none.

"It doesn't matter, it was my job; it was all I had to do. He lost his trust in me that day. He put me to work right back down at the bottom; I had to earn my way back up to where I am now."

"To the bottom?" I asked, curious as to what he meant by that. However, he was not giving anything away.

"Are you ready to go back inside now? My ass is freezing on this step and you look like an ice block," he said, quick to change the subject.

I nodded. Garrett held the large steel door open, waiting for me to go in first. I stayed quiet the entire walk back, even though my mind was swimming with a million thoughts at once.

I understood now how Edward could have interpreted my trusting his father over him as betrayal. I understood how that could make him hate me. However, what I didn't understand was what his problem was with Michael being my friend? I can't understand his behavior and his actions either.

I walked down the hall towards the room I shared with Edward. I stood outside weighing up my options. I could put my big girl panties on and go in there and deal with everything head-on, or I could turn around and walk away and spend the night in another room.

Being the coward that I was, I chose the latter option.

"He's not in there, if that's what you're worried about?" Garrett said, tugging on my arm just as I prepared to walk off.

"Oh," I said. I don't know why it bothered me that he wasn't here. "Where is he?"

"He left shortly after I took you outside," he said as he looked at his watch. "And he hasn't come back."

I slowly opened the door and stuck my head in first, having a look around. It's not that I didn't trust what Garrett told me, but he had no way of knowing for sure if Edward was, in fact, back or not when he had been with me the entire time.

"Can I offer you a piece of advice?" Garrett asked.

I turned back to face him with my arms folded. _What could he have to say now that he hasn't told me already?_ I thought.

"You need to tell him about Michael."

I threw my hands up in frustration. I was sick of defending myself where Michael was concerned.

"There's nothing to tell. Nothing happened. Why is that so hard for you all to understand? Why are you making me out to be some whore?" I said in frustration.

"Hey, no one is making you out to be anything, especially that," he said, grabbing a hold of my shoulders, making sure I was looking right at him. "I don't know what happened in Italy, and it wasn't Anthony's place to say anything to Edward either, but he did and now you have to deal with it. You're too naive and may not see it, but Michael is not who he says he is. Can you see why that would have him worried sick about you? Especially when he shows up wherever you are. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty or upset you, but open your eyes. Stop and think about everything that's happened with Michael and ask yourself, 'is it normal?'"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked down at my feet. Deep down inside I knew Garrett was right. But right now, everything was still too fresh for me to accept that.

I left Garrett standing there and closed the door. I was cold, my toes still felt as if they were frozen stiff. I needed a hot shower to warm myself up.

I stood under the hot running water. My body slowly started to thaw. It wouldn't surprise me at all if I were to get sick after this.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself. Wiping the steam off the mirror, I stared back at my own reflection. I thought about what Garrett said and I hated to admit he was right. I played a part in Edward's downfall. I betrayed his trust with Carlisle and then again with Michael.

The more I thought about Michael the more I started to see that there was something not right about him. I wanted to smack myself for not opening my eyes to see it sooner.

Michael had been there that night at the ball; I had seen him with my own eyes. I was certain of it. Michael was also in New York after we all left Italy. He admitted to me that he was staying in the building opposite to Edward's. Michael was everywhere that I was.

Garrett was right, I was naive. How could I have been so blinded as to not see this earlier? Was Michael the one responsible for shooting Carlisle? Was he the one stealing his money? If so why?

So many thoughts were running through my mind, it was giving me a headache. I had to make this right. I had to tell Edward about Michael.

As I walked out of the bathroom I almost jumped out of my skin. There - in front of me - stood Edward, stripping off his coat. The tip of his nose and his cheeks were rosy from the cold outside. I had to admit, he looked almost cute.

I studied his face, trying to see if I might be able to guess his mood. Was he still mad at me? However, all I saw was hurt, maybe even regret.

"Hi," I said, testing the waters. He said nothing in reply. "I'm sorry," I blurted out.

"Don't you dare apologize to me," he said sternly.

I looked down at my feet. I clutched the towel around my body tighter, hoping that maybe it might make me disappear out of this room. Instead, I was glued to this spot in nothing but a stupid towel.

I saw his feet approach me. I closed my eyes waiting for something, anything to happen but it never did. He stood in front of me for the longest time. Several minutes past until he put his finger under my chin and lifted my head up to look at him.

"What happened earlier... It should have never happened. I shouldn't have come here looking for you, not until I had calmed myself down first," he said.

"It's-"

"Don't say it's alright." he cut me off. "It's not alright, dolcezza. None of it was alright."

"Then what do you want me to say?" I asked softly. He was too close to me, he was there in my personal space. I could smell the crisp winter air that still lingered on his skin.

"I can't even let you forgive me. But I am sorry. I'm sorry I let Anthony's version of the truth get the better of me. I'm sorry I put my hands on you. I'm sorry I scared you. Fuck, dolcezza, let's just say I'm sorry for everything up until this point."

"I had a part to play in this as well, Edward. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to realize things and come to my senses," I said. "I'll tell you everything I know about Michael. But Edward, whatever it is you think happened between the us... it didn't."

He let out a deep, long sigh. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against mine as his hands cupped my face.

"The thought... I…" he started but never finished. "The thought of you with… fuck."

I didn't know what to do with him now not like this. He shocked me when he opened his eyes and a few stray tears fell freely. My heart broke for him in this moment. He looked vulnerable and that was something Edward was not.

"I only ever wanted to bring you some sort of happiness out of this whole mess," he said.

"I know."

"Then stop fighting me at every turn and let me."

"Edward…"

"Ti amo, dolcezza, pui di quanto ne sai," he whispered, as he brought his mouth closer and closer to mine.

There was something in me that stirred at his words, something was awoken. Even though he had told me numerous times that he loved me, I never once believed him, not until now Maybe it was because of the vulnerability he showed, or maybe the clouds were just starting to disappear from around my head.

While one of my hands was clutching the towel around my body for dear life, the other found its way to his face. The tips of my fingers brushed against his parted lips. He kissed them as I moved them back down.

Whatever was happening between us in this moment, it felt magnetic like there was some invisible force bringing us closer and closer together until our lips met. It was a soft and gentle kiss, his lips slowly moved against mine almost as if he couldn't believe it was happening.

I brought my hand back up around is neck and held him closer, deepening our kiss.

He pulled back much to my disappointment. His hands moved down from my face to my shoulders and down my arms till they rested on my hips.

"Dolcezza, you have no idea how hard I am struggling to hold onto what little control I have left right now, and you standing here the way that you are, it's not helping," he said.

"Edward," I said softly, bringing my hand back up to his face.

He leaned into my touch sighing contently as he turned his face towards my hand and kissed the inside of my palm.

There was something in me that awoke, something almost animalistic that screamed to not back away now. Maybe it was nothing more than need, my own mind and body seeking some sort of comfort and attention. Or maybe, maybe it was something more.

"Let go of the towel," he demanded.

So I did. I released my fingers from the death grip I had around the towel and let it fall to the floor, pooling at my feet. I ignored the feeling of embarrassment as Edward's eyes roamed up and down my body. I pushed all of my self doubts away.

"Fuck!" he cursed as he backed me up against the wall and pinned me there with his body. "It's you and me, dolcezza, only you and me," he said. "Say it."

"Only you and me," I repeated his words.

"Il mio." He breathed against my skin.

No words were needed after that. I helped him as he tore away his own clothes, leaving him as naked as I was.

There was something happening between us in this moment, something more than just a physical release. I didn't know what it was but it felt strong. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, taking hold of every part of me and it scared me to death.

My eyes found Edward's and there it was, my wake-up call, my earth to Isabella moment. Somewhere along the way, I had fallen in love with him.

Everything felt different now. I felt different; Edward felt different to me. All those years ago, I remember every time we were together and the way he made me feel; it was never like this. This was urgent, desperate, and pure need.

The way our bodies moved together. The way his mouth claimed every part of me. I don't think there was a spot he hadn't touched that hadn't set me on fire again and again. We were as close as it was physically possible for two human beings to be, yet it still felt as if it wasn't close enough. I needed and wanted more and so did he.

What we were doing wasn't making love, I wouldn't even call it sex. No, this was Edward staking his claim on me, and I on him. Il mio, mine; I'm his just as much as he is mine.

* * *

Edward was asleep when I escaped out of our room. There was something I needed to do. One person I needed to see and I knew exactly where his brother was holding him.

I made my way down the halls, past the bedrooms, past his office, to a lonesome door at the end of a corridor. I wasn't stupid, I knew what was down there. I knew what happens to those unfortunate enough to end up down there. I wondered what Edward had done to his brother and if he was, in fact, still down there.

There was a tall and very well built man standing by the door, playing on a small DS console. It seemed like no one was allowed a smart phone down here. He turned his back and began walking in the opposite direction.

I ignored his presence, even though his size intimidated me, and made my way to the keypad by the door, hoping he wouldn't turn back around. I'd seen Edward punch the code in a few times as he was leaving me to go down there, I just prayed I memorized it correctly.

5-2-2-5

The light on the door turned green and I heard a small click. My hand was on the handle, ready to open the door when that same large figure wrapped his hand around my wrist and squeezed tightly.

"Ow, let go," I said, trying to yank my hand out of his grip.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, glaring at me. "You aren't allowed down there. Get out of here."

But this man didn't know I was on a mission. I had a bone to pick with Anthony and I wasn't going to leave until I did just that.

"I have to go down there," I said.

"There's nothing for you down there."

"Yes, there is."

"Oh, yeah, and what might that be?" He asked with a raised brow.

"I don't have to justify myself to you. Let go of me and let me go down there, or else," I said. I didn't know where this was coming from, or what had came over me. What could I possibly do to this man? What could I threaten him with when he was five times the size of me.

"Listen here, sweetheart," he said, getting in my face as his grip around my wrist became unbearably painful.

"What the fuck are you doing Mario!?" I heard Garrett yell out. I turned enough to see him running towards us with a pissed off look on his face.

"No one's supposed to go down there," Mario said. "Boss' orders. I'm not gonna get my ass handed to me cause she's fucking curious," he spat.

"I need to go down there," I said, looking at Garrett, silently pleading with him in the hopes he will help me out.

"You're also not meant to put your hands on the boss' wife, Mario," Garrett said as his eyes flickered from Mario's face to his hand firmly around my wrist. "What do you think he'll be more pissed off about?"

Mario glared at Garrett as he removed his hand from me. Garrett looked down at my wrist and started shaking his head. "You better pray she doesn't bruise," He said as Mario's face paled and I couldn't help the satisfied smile that spread across my face.

I didn't turn back around to look at either Mario or Garrett as I opened the door and headed down the stairs.

"Hey, wait," I heard Garrett behind me. "What the hell are you doing coming down here?" He asked finally catching up to me.

"I know Anthony's down here," I said.

"How do you know that?" he asked with his arms folded across his chest.

"Come on Garrett, I'm not stupid." I saw Edward take his brother down here after we had returned from the club and Anthony hasn't been seen since. "I need to see him."

"Why?" He asked, confused.

To be fair I was just as confused as Garrett was about my sudden urgency to see Anthony. However, I was so mad, so angry with him that I wanted to hurt him. If only I could just hit him once. I knew it would satisfy me and I knew he wouldn't be able to hurt me back.

"Because I want to knock his fucking teeth out."

Garrett's eyes widened in surprise, although he looked amused. "This way." He shrugged.

I followed Garrett, watched him as he opened a door and motioned for me to go in.

Inside was a dimly lit room with concrete walls and floors. There were no windows, only a small vent. It smelled terrible in here. The scent of urine and vomit permitted the air. A shiver went down my spine. This room resembled the same one I'd been held in all those years back; only this time it wasn't me slumped in the corner defenseless. It was Anthony.

I didn't know what I expected to find down here, or better yet, what state I had expected to find him in, but this wasn't it.

He was bruised and battered. Every part of his body I could see was covered in blood and cuts.

I kneeled down beside him, taking him all in. I was shocked at what Edward had done to his own brother, his own flesh and blood.

Anthony let out a small whimper as he tried to move.

"Jesus Christ," I said. I moved my hand to wipe some of the blood from his face. He felt hot, burning up, as if he were running a fever.

"Anthony," I whispered, afraid to raise my voice any higher.

"You came back," he mumbled.

"Anthony, we have to get you upstairs. Can you please stand up," I said. No matter what, I knew I couldn't leave him down here. I knew he would die.

"I missed you," he mumbled out.

"Garrett, can you help me please?" I asked.

"You really are trying to get me killed?" He said.

I put my hand under Anthony's head. It was so damp. His blood stained my hands, it ran down my palms and onto my shirt.

He groaned as I tired to help him move. His eyes slowly opened and he looked directly at me.

"Don't let him take you from me baby, please, not again," he said although his words were a struggle to get out. I didn't know what he was talking about. Obviously he was having some sort of delusion, some dream.

With whatever strength Anthony had left in him, he brought his hand up to the back of my head bringing me closer to him.

"I love you, Kate," he whispered before he crushed his lips to mine.


	33. Chapter 33

**Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69**

 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 **Anthony Cullen.**

Physically, I knew my body was here because the throbbing pain in every part of my body felt too real to be a dream. Mentally though, mentally I didn't know what world I was in. I didn't know if I was here, there, or anywhere for that matter. But there was one thing that stood out, one voice, one face.

That angelic face, her sweet aroma, her beautiful presence was staring back at me. She was my happy place, my life, and my home.

" _Anthony, come on, you have to stand up."_ A sweet voice said. But I saw no one, only her, my angel.

I didn't understand what was happening to me right now. None of this could be real, could it? No, it wasn't; none of this was. Kate was dead wasn't she?

I heard her voice so clear. Her laughter rang out and filled the room, it brought a smile to my face. The light around her shone so bright. But I knew none of this was real. My Kate was dead. I had killed her myself.

" _Look at what you did to him."_ That same sweet voice spoke _._

" _He deserves far worse than what he received."_ Someone answered.

" _He could have brain damage, Edward."_

" _Or he might just come to his senses."_

Their voices slowly tuned out. They became nothing but a low humming in the background. My eyes and my ears were only focused on her now. I took her all in. The way she looked, wearing nothing but my shirt. The way her loose red curls framed her face and her bright blue eyes.

"Kate," I called out, yet she ignored me as she moved about in our living room as if I weren't even there.

"Kate." I tried again.

She turned around and looked straight at me. I took the few steps towards her until she was only an arm's reach away.

"I missed you so much," I said, bringing my hand up close to her face, wanting, longing to feel her again, but she moved out of my reach as the doorbell rang..

I followed behind her, and watched as she opened the door. I watched as she leapt into another man's arms.

My blood boiled. My hands balled into fists. "What the fuck are you doing?!" I yelled out, but they carried on as if they hadn't heard me.

I watched as his hands went under the shirt Kate had on, revealing her backside. She was naked underneath.

I reached into the back of my pants for my gun, aiming it at this motherfucker who had the balls to come into my house and touch my wife.

I pulled the trigger and yet nothing happened. There was no noise and no bullet was fired. I tried again and again, only to be unsuccessful each time. I let the weapon fall from my hand onto the floor. The noise of its decent rang out in my ears and echoed through the room, but it did nothing to disturb them.

"Are you sure he won't be back?" He asked her.

My head snapped up as he spoke. I knew that voice, I knew that accent.

"No, he's in Florida, and don't worry about anyone else. I slipped Matthew something and put him out for the night," Kate said. She had drugged my man; the person I entrusted with her safety so she could walk into the arms of the enemy.

I wanted to kill them both all over again. I wanted to put my hands on her, hurt her and make her suffer the same way she was making me suffer. The same way I have suffered all these years because of her.

However, there was nothing I could do now except watch them. I couldn't scream, I couldn't kill them and then I realized what this was. This was hell, my own personal hell where I would be forced to watch, forced to relive my wife's - the only woman I have ever loved - betray me over and over again.

I guess my brother had succeeded after all. He killed me; he put me here in this nightmare.

"I love you." I heard Kate moan out.

Those three words escaping her lips, hearing her declare her love for another man, it tore me, it broke me in half.

I stayed and watched them from my pitiful spot. I watched him fuck my wife in my house while she still wore my shirt. I watched it all. I let it all sink in, every moan every scream, the way her fingers scratched down his bare back.

" _Did you notice anything, something that stood out about him?"_ Someone asked.

" _Like what?"_ That sweet voice I'd heard earlier replied.

" _Tattoos, a birthmark, anything."_

" _He does have tattoos."_

" _Where?"_

" _Everywhere, but the one on is back stands out the most. It's unusual; I've never seen anything like it."_

" _How so?"_

" _It's a tree, or at least I think it was tree. All the branches are twisted and mangled together with words, names mixed in-between. The trunk goes down his spine with strange looking roots at the bottom. There's something written there, but I couldn't make out what it said though. He said it was Celtic."_

" _Was there any color?"_

" _No, it was all black."_

" _Dolcezza, did he... did he... on the top of that tree, behind his neck, was there a green spot like a four leaf clover with an initial in the middle?"_

" _Yes!"_

Everything that sweet voice had described was staring back at me. Liam's tattoo, their family tree, the Celtic verse at the bottom and four leaf clover at the top. It was all Liam.

I couldn't handle this anymore. I couldn't handle watching them, hearing them. I wanted to escape, but I didn't know how. The pain was too much and even after all these years, it was still too raw. The pain felt as if it were setting me on fire, burning me alive, yet at the same time it felt ice-cold.

I had to escape from here, somehow I had to. I closed my eyes for a brief moment. I felt hot tears as they slid down my face. It had been a long time since I had shed any. There was nothing I could do to stop this, to make it go away; so I did the only thing I could do, I let it take me over. I fell to my knees and closed my eyes, letting the pain and the betrayal rip me apart.

 **-MINY-**

Something had shifted around me. The air was different. I could no longer hear Kate. I couldn't smell her nor feel her presence anymore.

I could hear the low hum of an air conditioner and the repeated _beep, beep, beep_ of a machine somewhere close by. I was almost afraid to open my eyes, wondering what new hell I would wake-up to.

"Anthony?" I recognized that voice, Isabella. But why was she here in my hell?

I slowly opened my eyes, thankful someone had dimmed the lighting. I recognized where I was immediately. I was in our underground's clinic room.

"Hey," Isabella said from somewhere beside me.

I tried to turn my head. I tried to sit up, but instantly regretted my decision. There was a pain that shot through my head; I could feel right down to the tip of my toes. I let out a frustrated groan as I lay my head back down on the pillow.

"Don't move. The doctor said you would be in a lot of pain," she said.

"Am I dead?" I had to ask.

"Nope."

"Fuck!" I said, bringing my hands up to my face only to feel the sting of the IV drip in one hand as I accidentally tugged at it and a cast on the other. "What the fuck happened?"

"You don't remember?" She frowned, coming around into my line of sight. She held a glass of water with a straw to my lips and before either of us could blink, I had finished the entire glass.

"I'm not sure of anything right now," I admitted.

Seeing Kate had felt far too real for my liking. Hearing her, even inhaling her scent still lingered on my mind.

"Edward may have overreacted after you took me out that night," she said.

"That night?"

"It's been almost two weeks, Anthony."

"Motherfucker. He actually tried to kill me," I mumbled.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" She asked. "The doctor left some painkillers to give through your IV if you were to wake-up before he got back."

"Keep that shit away from me," I said, almost yelled. The sound of my own voice caused that throbbing in my head all over again. But I would gladly accept this pain over the one that would overcome me if I were to sleep again.

"Don't be a hero, Anthony."

"You come next to me with that and believe me, you'll be the one taking a nap," I said.

"Alright then," she huffed. "Suffer," she said, placing the syringe back on the table.

I heard the door open but I didn't dare move my head to look up and see who entered.

"Finally," I heard my brother say. He came around to my bedside and leaned over me, placing a kiss on the top of my head. "Good to see you're finally up."

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you," I said.

"You shouldn't have pushed your fucking luck. Although I'll admit, I'm glad I didn't kill you."

"He won't let me give him the pain meds," Isabella said.

"He doesn't look to be in pain to me." My brother shrugged with a smirk tugging at his lips. "You need to get out of that fucking bed anyways. We've got work to do."


	34. Chapter 34

**Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69**

 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 _ **Edward Cullen.**_

I was thankful, relieved even, that I hadn't ended up killing my brother. However, I know if Isabella hadn't done what she did, Anthony would have died that morning. I knew I'd gone overboard with him, but I guess I didn't realize the extent of the damage I caused, or in that moment, I simply didn't care.

However, no matter what had happened, that didn't mean I wasn't furious with my own wife. What she did had been reckless and downright idiotic. Anthony wasn't the only one down in those cells.

I wanted to murder Garrett for even listening to her and agreeing to take her down there. She had insisted Garrett was innocent, and by the time he'd chased after her, she was already down there. She must think I'm stupid or maybe she simply forgot that this underworld has cameras and sensors in every single corner and dark hole; nothing escaped me down here. Nevertheless, I let it slide. When her eyes welled up and she started backing away from me, I told her I wasn't mad and I let it go. I let her walk all over me.

Anthony hadn't taken anytime to recover either. No matter what the doctor ordered, my brother was up and out of that bed only a few hours after he'd woken up. That was good because - as it turns out - I needed his help.

Whoever this Michael was - no matter what I did or where I looked - it was always resulted in a dead end. I even went and dug up Liam's file to make sure he was, in fact, dead. I looked into his whole family; there were no brothers, no sisters, not even a cousin that I could find. There was just… nothing.

Anthony had his own theory. He believed Liam and Michael were the same person. Even though I'd proven to him Liam was, in fact, dead he wouldn't get the thought out of his head.

"You know I'm right," my brother said.

"No!"

"Why not? It's not like she'll be going out and meeting with him personally. She'll be right here with you controlling us, hovering over her."

"No, that's not happening," I said.

Anthony's idea, as good as it was, it wasn't going to happen. I hated the thought of Isabella having any part in this; even if she would be sitting right beside me. It wasn't her battle to fight. She had already been involved with this more than she needed to be. Michael made her a player in this game, but I would end it. Anthony and I, we would find another way of luring Michael out.

* * *

"You've been very... quiet lately. Is everything okay?" Isabella asked.

I was in my office, sitting in my chair behind my desk. I brought Isabella with me. I have made it a habit of taking her everywhere with me, ever since the incident at the hospital. I wasn't going to take any chances where she was concerned.

Someone tried to breach our security at the hospital. A nurse, attempted to slip my father a little "something extra" in with his regular medication. It would have worked if it weren't for the fact our security and my mother knew his medication schedule by heart.

Whoever paid her to do it, she never gave them up and my mother had very little patience with her.

"I'm fine," I said, turing my attention back to the laptop screen in front of me, watching as money continued to disappear from my father's account and I was powerless to stop it.

"You know you don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying." I sighed, slamming the screen shut in frustration. This whole thing was messing with my head more than I cared to admit. It angered me that it was still going on. It angered me that we haven't been able to track down whoever was doing this and make them pay. It angered me because it made me feel powerless, useless.

"You're restless. You've been bouncing your knee up and down for the past hour; I'm surprised it hasn't given you a cramp yet," she said.

"You're very observant, aren't you?" I said, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"You also haven't been sleeping well. Do you even get four hours a night?" She asked as she came around the desk and stood before me. Taking my face in-between her hands, she smoothed her thumbs over my cheeks and under my eyes. "I hear you when you wake-up, I know when you get out of bed and leave. You think I'm asleep, but I'm not. What's going on Edward? Please tell me the truth."

"It's nothing for you worry about, dolcezza." I kissed the inside of her palm as I pulled her down to sit on my lap and nuzzled my face in her neck. She smelled so good, she was so warm, so inviting.

Things have been good, too good with her these past weeks. It's almost hard to believe she was the same person who had been fighting me all that time. I'm not complaining though. I'm glad we are here now - at this point - even though it has taken us a while, taken _her_ a long time to reach it. But I can't help to think it's all too good to be true. Something has to give because nothing is this easy, not for us at least. However, I'm determined to enjoy every moment of this while it lasted.

"Don't do that, Edward, please. If we are going to do this whole marriage thing then we need to be open and honest with one another. You want me to tell you every single little detail about me, yet you won't give me anything from you."

I sighed as I held her close to me. I let my hand wander under her shirt, letting my fingers trail up and down her spin, enjoying the moment as she sank further into me as she held me tighter.

"I love you, dolcezza."

I wasn't holding my breath, I knew those three words might never leave her mouth but I still held onto the hope that maybe one day they might leave her lips.

She raised her head, staring me right in the eyes. It was obvious she wanted to say something. She looked as if she was having an internal battle with herself. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but whatever it was she wanted to say, she never did. Her eyes trailed off to my hand resting on her thigh.

"Things... I think everything is just starting to get the better of me," I admitted.

"Let me help you then."

"Dolcezza, there's nothing you can do to help. I don't even know what to do."

"Is this about what happened with your father at the hospital?" She asked.

"How do you know about that?"

"Anthony told me."

"Of course he did." I sighed again, shifting her on my lap so I could have access to the laptop again.

"So…"

"So... I thought this all would be over and done with by now. I never had to chase someone for this long. Someone's been trying to kill us for months now, Isabella. Months. No matter what I do, or where I look I can't find them."

Laurent was the guy transferring money out of my father's account and now he was dead and the money is still disappearing. There's another player in all of this; someone invisible, someone I am desperate to discover, but every time I get close they seem to slip between the cracks.

"Do you think it's Michael?" She asked, chewing on her bottom lip nervously to the point where she had no doubt caused herself to bleed.

We had only spoken about Michael once and she had told me everything she knew, or so she claims she did. I'm not an idiot, I know she only skimmed through her story. I don't know what actually happened between them. I don't know what he said or what he promised her, but I know she's still protecting him. And that made the rage build-up inside of me all over again, and I found my fingers digging into her thigh.

"Ow," she yelped, jumping out of my lap.

"I'm... I'm sorry," I said, shaking myself out of my thoughts. "I didn't mean to... Did I hurt you?" I asked not meeting her eyes.

"It's fine," she said, rubbing the spot my fingers had just unintentionally assaulted.

"No, it's not fine," I said, standing up.

And now, here she is close to me again. I looked at her and all I could picture was her with _him_. Him with his hands on her. Her kissing him and that anger, that... jealousy - that's what it is. I'm jealous another man touched my wife, that he offered her comfort when I couldn't because she wouldn't let me. All that rose to the surface again. I thought I had dealt with it all, clearly I was wrong.

"Edward?" She reached out to touch me, but I stepped back. I couldn't do this right now. I let it all get the better of me, and I knew I needed to calm myself down before I did something stupid, something I would regret.

"Get out," I said.

"Edward, what's…"

"Get the fuck out!" I yelled, slamming my fists down onto my desk.

Her eyes widened and she looked at me in a way I never wanted her to: scared, shocked, even hurt. Nevertheless, she ran out of my office, slamming the door behind her.

I had to get a grip. I couldn't keep acting like this. I thought I was past all of this. I thought the progress we had made outweighed all of this. I guess I was wrong.

* * *

I managed to calm myself down, getting a grip on myself and my emotions. It wasn't fair to her for me to react like this every time Michael was brought up. Now, I had to apologize.

I went to our room only to find it empty. She wasn't in Anthony's either, thank God for that. So, I went up into the main club area.

I saw Garrett sitting by the bar, flipping through the pages of some old magazine. I scanned the room until my eyes landed on them. Isabella held a phone to her ear as she appeared to be speaking softly to someone. Her back was to me but my brother noticed my appearance. He motioned for me to keep my mouth shut. My eyes narrowed in on him; the motherfucker went against me, against my word, and made her call the bastard anyway.

I took soft, gentle steps towards her. I didn't want to startle her. I could only get so close to her. Anthony put his hand on my chest stopping my progress of reaching her.

"She is the best shot we have of luring the asshole out," he whispered harshly in my ear. "Don't fuck it up just because you can't keep your jealousy under control."

"I am going to destroy you," I whispered back, grabbing the back of his head, digging my nails into the spot I knew I'd injured him.

"We can fuck each other up later, brother, it will be my pleasure. But you aren't going to ruin this for me," he said.

"No... No, Michael, I swear I'm fine," I heard Isabella say.

I let go of Anthony, giving him a slight shove as I walked closer to her so I could hear more of what she was saying. She still had not turned around and I doubt she was aware of my presence right behind her.

"I stole one of his phones. I'll delete the number after I end the call, I promise he won't know. He'll kill me if he ever finds out," she said.

I closed my eyes as I listened to her conversation. My hands balled into fists by my side. Just hearing the way she spoke to him. The gentleness, but most of all the sincerity of her words…

"I... I miss you too, Michael. ... No, I promise, I'm fine. I'm not hurt. ... He doesn't hurt me. ... I know."

Each word felt like a knife stabbing deeper and deeper into me. Regardless of what she said, she obviously felt something for this... dead man, something she didn't feel for me.

"I can't wait to see you too," she said.

She let out a small laugh, he said something to make her laugh, not a forced one but an honest to God genuine laugh.

If I could see myself right now, I'm sure I had steam coming out of my nose and ears. I had to have looked murderous, and my attention was solely on her or else Garrett wouldn't be pushing me away from her.

"Ok, I'll see you then," she said. "Yes, I'll be able to get away. Don't worry."

She hung up the phone. She clutched it to her chest as she turned around meeting my gaze. For the first time she became aware of my presence. Her eyes widened and her mouth parted slightly. I noticed her hands started to tremble a little, causing the phone to slip between her fingers and fall to the floor.

I shoved Garrett out of my way and went over to her, knocking Anthony over as well. I grabbed onto her shoulders and pushed her up against the wall, pinning her body there with mine.

I was aware I was scaring her right now. I was aware she feared me. However, I didn't give a fuck anymore. I knew exactly what I needed to do to her.


End file.
